Heroes & Demons
by Silver Spider
Summary: "I don't have anyone but you." But what if Tony Stark didn't even have her when he'd needed her most? Pepperony. Movie-verse AU.
1. Part 1

_**Author's Note: **_Technically, this is an AU of the movie-verse that takes place some years after the events of the first half of the first movie, with one key difference: Pepper and Tony don't know each other until the beginning of this story. I also wanted to incorporate elements of the early comics, the ones much darker than the 'Demon in a Bottle' storyline. If you have a chance, I strongly recommend picking up Iron Man v.1 ~#160 - ~#200. My only complaint about that arc was that Pepper wasn't in it so I wondered what it would be like if she was around then. Enjoy and please review!

**Heroes & Demons**

**By: Silver Spider**

'Shit' did not even begin to describe the situation Virginia "Pepper" Potts was in. It was only seven in the morning, but already what was supposed to be one of the most important days of her life was going wrong at every possible turn. She was supposed to be on her way to her eight o'clock interview at Stark Industries, not standing over her smoking '01 Toyota Tercel in some shady New York side street because she could not yet afford a better car and because in its infinite wisdom, the GPS decided this was the shortest way to Stark Tower.

After a few deceptively warm days, the temperature was finally remembering was early November. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled, hinting that the 'partially cloudy' was about to turn into 'absolute certainty of thunderstorms'. She'd suspected as much when she left her apartment but hoped she would be inside when the storm hit so that her crème colored suit and skirt would remain in its dry cleaned condition until her interview was over. Now it looked like even that was not going to happen.

And her cell phone battery was flashing the final remaining bar.

And her feet were killing her.

Honestly, her birthday should have been postponed to some other day, when the universe had not decided to hate her quite this much.

Not wanting to waste the remainder of the cell battery in case someone from Stark called, she locked the car and began walking to find the nearest payphone to call towing, all the while trying not to think about just how many were still in service in this day and age and if she had any change even if she found one. Her mind was running at a thousand miles a minute, and she was so distracted that nearly walked straight into someone.

The man grabbed her wrist, but she reflexively twisted away, almost ready to run. It took her a second to regain her bearings and realize that he'd stopped her from falling. She brushed at her skirt and glanced up at the man through her lashes. Mid-height, on the thinner side, but that was hardly surprising since his tattered brown coat and unwashed appearance spoke of a harsh life. His beard was not long, but shaggy, hair wavy and jet-black with a light peppering of gray, but it was hard to guess his real age. The streets tended to speed up that process.

"Need a hand?" he extended his, and she did her best not to look too taken aback by the dirt that outlined the crevices on his callused hand.

"I'm fine," she began to straighten. "Tha…" The words caught in her throat, and this time Pepper could not help but stare.

His chest was glowing. That was the only word for it. Through the old dusty gray shirt, she could see… _something_. A circle about two or three inches in diameter directly in the center of his chest that was emanating a very obvious white light as if he had a flashlight sticking out of his body cavity.

He must have caught her staring because the man glared and pointedly buttoned up the coat, hiding most of the glow.

"Sorry," Pepper apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm in a hurry."

"Not in that thing," he nodded in the direction of her car a few yards away then reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a flask of something whose vile smell immediately overpowered his very ripe one as soon as the cap was untwisted.

"But," he took a swig from the flask and grinned, "you're lucky you ran into me."

"Really," Pepper said flatly.

"Really," the homeless man affirmed. "'Cause I just woke up, so I'm relatively sober."

"Good for you," she did not mean to snap, but the it was shaping up to be a terrible day and the last thing Pepper wanted to deal with was some homeless person of whose sobriety and mental state she was far from certain about, no matter what he claimed.

"Actually, it's _very_ good for you. Means I can have a look at your car. Get it running again." Pepper gave him a skeptical look, and he shrugged. "I was a... a mechanic. In another life."

She was about to tell him 'no, thank you' and that she would call for a tow truck, but then she thought about her options. There were not many. Not if she wanted to make it to S.I. on time and remain in a presentable enough shape not to get laughed out the door. If he could get the car back on the road, her day might yet be salvaged. If not… she was no worse off. Pepper eyed the stranger again, finally sighing in defeat.

"Yeah, sure. That would be helpful. Thank you," she started back toward the car.

The man popped the hood and propped it up, waving his hand across the space to clear the copious amounts of smoke spewing from inside. When he could see more clearly, he bent over and simply studied the inside. Pepper hovered at the driver's side, trying not to look too impatient. A few moments later he must have found something because his hands went to work on some part of the internal machinery she could not begin to name.

"Where're you headed?" he asked casually, never taking his hands or his eyes from the car.

"Interview," she replied courtly, not in the habit of freely sharing personal information.

"Looks important," he commented, waving an already-grease stained hand at her outfit. "Big company?"

"Stark Industries."

He stopped for a second, straightened and took another drink from the flask, an unreadable look passing over his features, then went back to the car. "Don't recommend 'em."

"Why?" she crossed her arms, reflexively defensive.

He did not answer, instead reaching deep inside and twisting something. A few more motions, and within minutes the engine roared back to life, this time with a minimal amount of fumes. When the hood slammed shut, it even passed for a semi-decent car again. On the outside, at least.

Pepper was impressed.

"That should get you to and from the Tower," the man informed her, "but this thing's not gonna last long. Might wanna invest in a new one."

"As soon as I get the job," she grinned. "Thanks. Really. You might have just saved my career."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty, extending it to him. The man raised a single brow.

"Do you know why no one ever gives money to the homeless?" he asked. " 'Cause everyone knows that they're just gonna snort, shoot up, or drink it all. In my case it's the last one. You really wanna waste your money on that?"

Pepper was startled by his blunt honesty but quickly regained her composure.

"I'd offer to physically buy you breakfast," she said, "but I'm already running late. This is the best I can do. Please take it."

He whipped his grease stained hands on his coat and gingerly took the bill. "Who am I to argue with a pretty lady? Good luck on that interview."

"With the company you don't think much of?" she was already unlocking the car.

He simply shrugged again. "What do I know about high-class people like that?"


	2. Part 2

_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you so much for your interest and kind words. I'll do my best to keep this story updated and running smoothly. Enjoy the second part and please review!

* * *

It was pouring in sheets by the time she left Stark Tower around seven, but Pepper could not care less. She could get a new suit. She _would_ get a new car within the next few paychecks. Her interview had gone so well that the last batch of managers who talked to her said the offer was just a formality now, something that came down to the discussion about her salary and benefits. When she had politely asked what kind of range they were talking about and they had given her a solid six figure number, she'd nodded and thanked them, but inside Pepper was practically giddy.

_First the car, then some new clothes – definitely shoes – , and in a year or so maybe a condo closer to work. Not a bad birthday, despite how it started_. She was fully prepared to go home, pop in a favorite cheesy old movie, curl up on the couch with something hot to drink, and enjoy the warmth of her apartment.

New York traffic moved very slowly, but with the rain coming down as hard as it was there was no other way to go. One of these days Pepper promised herself she would learn the ins and outs of the subways system, but she had not yet become exasperated enough for that. Navigating the streets was far from easy for someone who had not lived in the city for long, but that's what the GPS was for. She glanced down at it, then squinted through the rain and the rapid motion of the windshield wipers. Despite the fact that many streets and passing buildings looked alike to her, Pepper recognized the area; it was where her car had broken down that morning.

Her thoughts strayed to the homeless man again with more than a twinge of pity. It must be terrible to be outside in this storm. She hoped he had found shelter and wished that she'd had time to do something more for him that morning. Pepper had meant well with the money, but as he himself admitted, chances were she had just contributed to him being drunk in an alley somewhere. Then there was that... light. She wondered what it was and why he had it.

The car stopped at a light bending two others, and she absently drummed her manicured fingers on the steering wheel, looking around at nothing in particular, but a glance to the right brought a familiar glow into view. Pepper peered, making absolutely certain she was really seeing it and not the reflection of another car's headlights, but there was no mistake. She had never seen anything quite like it, whatever it was, and was not likely to forget it.

Yanking the car into a sharp right much to the honking annoyance of other drivers, she turned into the small ally that was just wide enough to let it pass without scraping the side mirrors on the buildings. She could not say what she was going through her mind except that it was getting cold and still raining relentlessly. Pepper stopped the car, pulled up the parking break, and quickly pushed herself out, ignoring the rain.

The man was slumped in the corner between the side of the building and large garbage container, the neck of a bottle sticking out from the soggy brown bag in his hand. His wet hair was plastered to his face, and he was soaked completely through that did not seem to register. Pepper knelt, mindful of her skirt, and closed the tattered coat to hide the light.

"Hey," she patted his rough bearded cheek, wishing she knew what to call him. "Wake up."

There was an inaudible noise, somewhere between a moan and a snort, but after a few seconds his lids fluttered open.

"I…" he made an ill attempt at speech. "… 'member you. Car girl."

"Right," Pepper affirmed. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he tried to form the A.O.K. sign with his figures but was clearly not coordinated enough for it. "Jus' needa… needa… sleep it off. Yeah. Sleep's good. Leave me 'lone."

"It's pouring."

"'t is?"

"Yes," she felt afraid somehow, though she did not know why. Not afraid of him, exactly, though it might have been reasonable for her to be. Pepper looked between him and her car, then her eyes fixed on the glowing neon light across the street.

"There's a deli over there," she pointed. "How about we get you out of the rain and get something in your stomach?"

"Somethin' of the... drinkable v'rity," he slurred.

"Only if you mean water or soda," she said mildly. "Maybe coffee, in your case. Come on."

She took his elbow and helped him up, headless of the dirt that was rubbing off from his coat. Her suit was a mess anyway. The man stumbled, closed his eyes, and took a deep nasal breath.

"Smell pretty," he muttered.

Pepper could not imagine what he meant because all she could smell was the garbage bin.

The busgirl looked startled when they walked through the door, but Pepper's hard glare, daring her to comment, silenced her. They were lead to the furthest booth, and Pepper pointedly ignored the stares of other customers. She refused to feel embarrassed or self-conscious for helping him. This was hardly a black tie establishment, anyway.

The man wriggled awkwardly into the seat opposite of her and slumped forward a little, propping his head in his right palm. A waitress came with menus a moment later. To her credit, she did not stare.

"Can I bring you some water?"

"Please," Pepper nodded, "and a bowel of whatever mildest soup you have."

"Don'... don' like soup," the man muttered, but she ignored him.

"Soup to start with," she repeated to the waitress who nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.. Pepper returned her attention to the man. "It'll help settle your stomach before you put anything else in it."

"Pfft. Thanks, Mom," he did not look up, focused on tracing a finger over the table surface as if writing something.

"You're welcome," she didn't miss a beat.

Felling her once-neat bun coming undone, Pepper pulled off the rubber band and brushed the long red strands with her fingers, spreading them out to dry a little. She felt the man's eyes on her, but he looked back down just as quickly. The waitress returned with the soup and water, then, and Pepper handed her back the menus.

"I'd also like two grilled chicken sandwiches," she said. "Lettuce, tomatoes, light mayo. And a cup of coffee after that, please."

The woman scribbled it down on the order pad and left again. Pepper inspected the soup almost critically before sliding it towards her companion and pointedly pushing the spoon into the semi-thick mass. He was clearly unhappy, but made an effort to swallow a spoonful. Only half made it into his mouth thanks to severely limited coordination, the other half dribbling through his beard. Pepper handed him a napkin without a word.

He glared, apparently sober enough to feel some twinge of humiliation. "Who 're you, 'gain?"

"Pepper," she replied calmly.

"Pepper," he snorted and licked his lips. "Pepper, Pepper, Pepper. That's a funny name. Pepper makes me sneeze. Goes great with... umm... stuff. Food. Cheeseburgers. Cheeseburgers go great with everything. Like pepper."

"Right. So now that you know mine, any chance you can tell me yours?"

"What?" he blinked.

"Your name," she repeated patiently.

"Whazat?"

"Something you answer to. People have to call you something." _Assuming anyone actually talks to you..._

"M' name?" his brow furrowed, and he seemed to think long and hard about it. "Name... I have one o' those."

"Most people do, yes."

"Yup," he nodded sagely and stared down into his soup. "I'm..."

A beat. Pepper waited.

"I'm..." he coughed but straightened and tried again. "I... am... Iron Man!"


	3. Part 3

_**Author's Note:**_ Once again, thank you so much for your reviews ^_^ I'm glad you're enjoying the story. In case anyone's wondering, Socrates, who's mentioned in this chapter is a canon character from Iron Man v.3 comics. I'm off to my graduation now! Enjoy the second part and please review!

* * *

She watched as he emptied what seemed like half the content of the sugar dispenser into his coffee, then proceeded to reach for the flask in his coat pocket and attempt to pour liquor into the steaming drink. Realizing that the flask was empty, the man grunted and went for the sweet powder again. Pepper could not help but comment.

"Would you like some coffee with your sugar?"

"Don't like coffee."

It was nearly midnight. They had been sitting at the booth for well over four hours, and after a few short sporadic naps and countless trips to the bathroom he was begging to sober a little. His sentences were more coherent though it still took him a while to string the words together.

"It'll help make you feel warmer," she offered.

"Booze does that better."

"You know, alcohol actually constricts... never mind," she had a feeling he would not listen to a biology lecture.

"What do you want from me?" he sounded tired.

"Nothing. You helped me out this morning, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she did not add that 'okay' was extremely relative for someone like him.

"I'm fine," he cut her off. "Look, it stopped raining so you don't have to babysit me anymore."

She glanced out the window at the nighttime city and realized that he was right. She also realized how late it was because the waitress came by to refill his coffee and said that they were closing in fifteen minutes. Pepper thanked her and handed over a credit card to pay for dinner.

"Do you have a place to stay?" she asked the him while the check was being processed. "There are shelters..."

"I'm fine!" he repeated angrily. "Except... well, I'm out of liquor and all the usual places are closed by now... Damn it! Thanks, lady. Seriously. Thanks a lot."

Pepper had to bite her tongue not to tell him that, yes, he _should_ thank her for feeding him, and, no, staying sober till morning was not the worst fate in the world, but she said nothing. The check came back, and Pepper signed it without looking, while he drained the remainder of the coffee and shivered at the still-bitter taste.

"That's it then," she got up.

"Yup," he looked like he was waiting for her to leave and drive away. As if he was afraid she might follow him or something like that. Pepper felt a twinge of guilt at her earlier thought.

"What _is_ your name?" she tried again.

He looked at her with some clarity, then pressed his lips tightly. "Howard."

"Okay," Pepper was not sure she believed that either but at least it did not sound like a comic book character. "Good luck."

"Good luck on the new job."

She paused, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly. "You're so sure I'll get it?"

"Please," he snorted. "Someone as pushy as you? They probably took one look at you and said, 'This lady can bully her way through any business deal'. That's a compliment, by the way. I'd hire you in a heartbeat."

"Thanks," this time she did laugh. "I'll see you around."

"Well, you're easy on the eyes, so sure, whatever."

It was her turn to look annoyed. "I think I liked you better when you were complimenting my bossiness."

"Noted," he gave her a mock salute and watched her walk out the door.

* * *

Pepper was blissfully grateful to be on the way back to her small one-bedroom apartment, even more grateful that she had nowhere to be tomorrow and could sleep in. Pepper counted all the things she wanted to do in the immediate future while dragging her feet up the stairs. A hot bath was in order, then tea, and straight to bed. She could do the movie thing tomorrow, along with some future-work-related shopping and maybe even something fun for herself.

All the thoughts were interrupted when she pushed open the door and heard the patter of feet and scratching of claws on linoleum floor what quickly dissipatedly as Socrates, the four-month-old bulldog half-ran, half-waddled from the kitchen though the living room to greet her.

"Hey, Soc boy," she knelt and scratched him behind the ear. "How are you?"

The sound he was emitting was clearly a 'You left me alone all day' growl.

"Oh, don't be mean," Pepper chided. "I know for a fact Mrs. Rennie came in and fed you."

He still did not look pleased.

"How about a treat?" she offered, dropping her bag and letting him follow her back into the kitchen. "Will that make you love me again?"

Predictably that did the trick. The puppy curled up next to her on the couch, happily munching away at the bone as Pepper absently scratched his head and sipped her tea contentedly.

Life was good.

Her life, anyway.

* * *

The problem with _not_ passing out from intoxication or really staying sober for any prolonged period of time was simple: if his head was clear, the memories pushed their way through.

They always started innocently enough. Happy times with his parents, at school, or tinkering with the latest project. He still remembered the what the excitement of knowing he was on the edge of creating something great felt like. Some of that was rekindled that morning when he had been bent over the engine of the old Toyota, but it was the loose of the feeling that hurt now.

He was surprised to realize that he missed people even more than machines. Only a few, but those losses far outweighed any others. He missed Rhodey. Missed him so God damn much it physically hurt, but then again he was probably the only person really worth missing. He missed Obi too, but that was different. He was not even sure if the person he was missing had ever existed at all. Maybe he was just missing the _idea_ of who he was.

There was no one else to miss, and that was when the real pain and nightmares usually started.

He dreamed he was back in the cave, a burning infected hole in his chest. Sometimes he was lucky; the battery failed or the arc reactor did not work, and he died of a heart attack quickly. All the others were worse. Sometimes when they asked him to build the weapon, he refuses till the end, till they tortured him to death. Worse, sometimes he broke and did as he was told. Sometimes he managed to escape only to die in the desert as the rescue helicopters flew overhead. Parts of him wished that had been the case, that death was preferable to reality.

Once-billionaire industrialist Tony Stark curled up on the still-soggy ground and wished it had never come to this. He wished he'd gone with Rhodey that day, that the last few years had not happened. He wished he'd done something better with his life than simply make things blow up.

Mostly he wished he had a fresh bottle.


	4. Part 4

_**Author's Note:**_ So I had a fun week. Graduation, party at work – number of martinis I had would make Tony proud ^^;; – and relatives visited, so I had virtually no time to write. Should catch up this weekend though. Thanks for all the support again, and please enjoy and review!

* * *

The call came two days later while Pepper was vainly wrestling the stack of mail from Socrates. She knew he thought it was a game and just hoped there wasn't anything important in the bundle. Going through dog slobbered bills did not sound appealing at all. She resorted to lightly tapping him on the nose to get him to let go, and the puppy padded after her as she raced for the phone across the living room.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, this is Linda Jones at Stark Industries. May I please speak with Virginia Potts?"

"This is she," Pepper might have been expecting it, but her heart raced.

"Good afternoon, Miss Potts. I'm calling to let you know that that we were very impressed with your interview and are ready to make an offer. Would it be possible for you to come down to Stark Tower and speak in person?"

"Absolutely! When should I come in?"

"Is tomorrow morning alright? Around eight?"

"Perfect. Thank you so much."

"Thank you. See you tomorrow."

Pepper clicked off the phone and turned to Socrates who had cocked his head to the side, ears flopping slightly. He ran for cover when she practically squealed in giddiness.

* * *

Tony was awake and not yet drunk enough to pass out again, though he was seriously considering spending the last five bucks in his pocket to refill the flask in the immediate future. He wondered if he should stick to his usual liquor stores or head downtown and see if there was anything cheaper there, but the idea of getting closer to the water chilled him. It was always colder there, and winter would arrive too soon for his liking as it was.

At times like this he really missed Malibu.

Still there was a better chance of finding something cheap to drink deeper in the shadier parts of the city, so he went, walking for nearly an hour before something broke his focus on finding an open liquor store or bar. It was just a garage with several badly beat up cars parked out front. A very typical scene for those parts, their owners often bought broken down cars from the junkyard and restored them just enough to sell them off to any buyer who looked only at the price – rather than the millage, age, and history – of the vehicle. He watched as two young men in grease-stained pants walked out and began work on a silver Honda Civic that should have been retired years ago.

Unless it happened to fall into the hands of Tony Stark. He could bring anything mechanical back to life. He wished he could say the same thing about other matters.

With the soft breeze from the water, the docks did not feel as bad as he thought they might. It was early but the place was already teaming with life, everything from restaurant chefs picking up the freshest catch from the fishermen to workers unloading shipments from large crates. There was a massive ship docked in the harbor, its side proudly displaying the logo.

Stark Industries.

Several boxes were unloaded. Some looked innocuous enough to possibly be office supplies or other miscellaneous items, but others were so big they could only be one thing. Tony walked away, feeling both guilty and angry but mostly helpless.

The only thing he had going for the early morning was that he'd managed to pick up a bottle of scotch. It tasted as cheap as its fifteen dollar sales tag warned, but it was a twenty-five plus oz. so it would do. It had been a while since he had actually bothered to savor the taste, anyway. The burning sensation was enough. Maybe he could even make it last for the rest of the day. Maybe. Doubtful, but there was always that chance.

Without giving his direction much thought, Tony had somehow managed to end up on the same corner as a few days ago. The diner's neon sign, though not yet lit, looked vaguely familiar. He wondered if he was hungry. Probably, but considering his last few bucks went towards the scotch it did not really matter. He unscrewed the top and took a long satisfying gulp.

He sat on a small wooden crate one of the shops must have tossed aside for garbage pickup, hunched over and doing his best to think of nothing at all. The alcohol would see to it soon enough, but for now he had to make an effort. The thoughts of nothing were interrupted by a pair of elegant high heeled shoes that came directly into his view. He made a face and looked up.

"This is one of those 'no good deed goes unpunished' things, isn't it?" he grumbled. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"First day of work," the red-head smiled sweetly, ignoring the slight. "Sort of. And I couldn't sleep so I went out and got donuts and coffee, but overestimated my sugar intake capacity so I'm sharing."

She held the bag and drink carrier out to him, and Tony gave her a dubious look. "Did you also overestimate on the coffee or do you usually drink two twenty oz. cups in a row?"

"I think what you meant was, 'Thank you, Ms. Potts.'"

"Thank you, Ms. Potts," he mimicked but with only half-hearted sarcasm. "Have fun working for the evil empire."

She wrinkled her nose. It was cute, he noted unconsciously, making the sprinkling of freckles stand out for an instant before disappearing once again under the light sheen of powder.

"Were you a hippie in addition to being a mechanic in that past life?" the corner of her mouth quirked slightly with apparent displeasure at the shot at her new place of employment. "The 'make love, not war' kind?"

It was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. Him? A hippie? A humanitarian? Tony could not help but laugh, and it must have come out bitter. The woman looked like she knew she had hit a sour topic and thrust out the bag at him again. Not wishing to make her feel even more uncomfortable, he took the extra cup from the holder and carefully pulled out the first pastry his fingers touched. It turned out to be a Boston cream. Holding it between his teeth for a lack of clean surface, Tony popped the lid of the coffee cup, poured in a generous amount of scotch, then replaced the bottle, and took a cautious sip.

He could not say the coffee tasted any better, but the alcohol definitely helped. It always helped. Tony glanced up casually, expecting disapproval and ready to tell her where she could stick that sentiment, but the woman kept her face almost professionally neutral. If he were still the head of the enormous international company she was about to work for, he might have been impressed. As it was, Tony was simply annoyed.

"I don't need your food or your pity," he hissed. "I told you I get by just fine."

To his further frustration, instead of getting angry and leaving him alone, she simply rolled her eyes. "It's doughnuts and coffee. Your entire breakfast probably has the same nutritional value as what you're sitting on, though that might have some more fiber. Pity food would be chicken noodle soup and some kind of sandwich loaded with greens your mother always told you to eat but you never did. I can bring that after work, if you like."

"Well, if you really got nothing better to do…"

Both were meant as a joke, but it occurred to Tony as he watched her drive away, that he would not have minded the pity food if it meant talking to another human being again. Especially someone who smelled so clean and fresh, nothing like the streets and everything like…

…like his old life.

Tony reached for the bottle again.


	5. Part 5

_**Author's Note: **_I'd like to apologize in advance to anyone who owns a Hyundai, Ford, or Volkswagen. I really have nothing against any of those makes, but Tony has an opinion about everything, especially anything mechanical. ^^;; Oh, and for those who don't know, Stark Tower (informally, the Avengers Tower) is a canon building in the modern comics. While I'm drawing inspiration mainly from the 80s issues regarding Tony's time on the streets, I'm trying to incorporate canon elements whenever possible or appropriate. Special early entrance in this chapter, by popular request. Enjoy and please review!

* * *

The building was enormous. The ninety-three story main tower was flanked from the north and south by two smaller sections, fifty-five and thirty-five stories respectively. Pepper had never been one for the deep understanding of modern architecture, but she appreciated the beauty and loved coming in, loved that it was all glass and luminescence, not some dreary cubical with no hint of natural light.

The first two weeks of work were good. Challenging and often exhausting, but it had been what she wanted. She acted as executive assistant to every member of the board during the business hours and while they were in the New York office. A job that might have been limited to fetching coffee twenty years ago now included everything from a solid understanding of the Stark Industrialist business model so that she could provide council if they asked for it to ordering food.

And she usually brought _him_ breakfast too. Because she could afford it and it was on her way and because the weather was getting worse and his health was clearly not improving. She caught a mist of red when he coughed and tried to hide the blood by wiping his hand on the old coat. Pepper opened her mouth to ask, but he interrupted.

"What kind of car are you looking at?"

He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, taking occasional bites of the breakfast sandwich – despite the dubious quality, Pepper figured it might provide some calcium and protein instead of empty calories – and sips of spiked coffee, while she sat sideways in the front seat of her parked car, legs hanging out the open door. Her breakfast rested safely on the dashboard. So far the Toyota was holding up, but it was clearly on its last breath.

"Mmm," she took a sip of her own coffee and frowned in thought. "Hyundai? Ford? Volkswagen? I don't really speak car."

"Obviously," he straightened a little. "Here's a lesson: Hyundai is something parents buy for their first-time drivers 'cause it's cheap, and the kid's gonna crash it anyway. Some Ford's pretty solid, but it's a Nazi car. Volkswagen has some nice high-end models, but the bug's ridiculous."

"Wait, Ford's a Nazi car but not Volkswagen? Isn't it the other way around?"

"Volkswagen's a German make," he corrected. "And yeah, Hitler had a fondness for it, but that's not the model's fault. It's a good car, despite the look. Ford's just... I don't think we can be friends if you get that."

"Oh, well, then clearly Ford's out," she said dramatically.

"If you're seriously thinking Volkswagen, I'd recommend an Audi," he advised.

"Don't those run around eighty grand?" she raised a brow.

"Try a hundred and twenty for the R8," her mouth fell open, and he raised his hands. "But just think: We're talking sixty miles per hour in just over four seconds. Glides on the road and handles like a dream."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Pepper waited for a beat, afraid something had happened, but finally he just sighed contentedly and grinned up at her. She decided not to ask. Pepper also wondered when he had driven something so expensive but suspected that that question was probably as off limits as the one about the device in his chest.

Breakfast was over. He told her to have a good day – only half-sarcastically, this time – and she drove towards Midtown, more and more convinced that he was more than simply another addict society had turned its back on. Maybe she'd actually ask her questions tomorrow morning or the morning after that. She had learned quickly that seeing him after work was impossible.

He was usually too far gone that late in the day.

She was typing away at reports the next day, all the while half her brain still mauled over her car situation, when approaching footsteps brought her glance back up. An African-American man in what she recognized as an Air Force dress uniform stood in front of her desk looking around in curiosity. When he noticed that he had her attention, he smiled.

"Hi. Could you let Mr. Alvarez know that Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is here?" he asked politely. "I have an appointment."

"Yes, of course. One moment, please," she got up and briskly walked to the vice-president's office. Pepper knocked once, then carefully opened the door, but saw that Alvarez was on the phone. He looked up momentary, a questioning look on his face, and covered the receiver.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is here to see you."

Alvarez cursed under his breath as if he had just remembered the appointment.

"Do you mind entertaining him for an hour or so?" he looked apologetic. "Take him out to lunch or something? I have to finish with this call."

"Of course," she returned to the lobby where the airman waited. "Mr. Alvarez apologizes but he's tied up in an important meeting. He'll be done in about an hour. Have you had a chance to eat yet, Colonel?"

"Rhodey, please," he corrected. "And no, I haven't. Just flew in from the West Coast, actually, and airline food sucks."

"Ah, well, we'll fix that," she smiled.

Rhodey, she learned, was a very easy man to like. He was pleasant, polite, and had acted as liaison to Stark Industries for enough years to be able to give her advice on dealing with CEOs which Pepper gratefully filed away for possible future use.

They sat outside at a small bistro a block away from the tower. Rhodey kept tilting his head and looking with curiosity at all the surrounding buildings. He was particularly impressed with the tower, just as Pepper had been earlier. She understood that it was his first trip to the site.

"Have you spent much time in the North East?" she asked by way of conversation.

"Not really," he shook his head. "I'm stationed out of Edwards Air Force Base in south California. Usually I deal with the West Coast Stark offices, but every once in a while they ask me to fly up here. More so lately. I just haven't been to New York since that thing was built."

The last part brought a bit of a haunted look to his face, Pepper realized and looked down into her salad, but he must have noticed. Rhodey tried to smile reassuringly, but it was obviously an effort to pretend that he was not bothered by whatever memories she had unknowingly triggered.

"Most of the engineering labs are... well, _were_ in the west," he amended. "So when they had a new product coming out or contract to fulfill, I'd worked to set up and oversee demonstrations. I still do that, but some of the labs have migrated up here, closer to D.C.."

"They started moving in the last few years?" Pepper guessed.

Rhodey nodded. "There's nothing tying them to the West Coast anymore. Not since Tony..." he sighed and ran a hand through his short cropped hair. "I don't even know what to say."

"You were friends?" she asked sympathetically.

"Best friends," he declared with conviction. "And now I have to catch myself not to say stuff like 'before he died'," he made air quotes around the words.

"I'm sorry," she did not know what else to say about a man she – like the rest of the world – had only known by reputation but who clearly meant so much to the colonel.

"Don't be. This therapy secession's probably way more than you bargained for when you volunteered to keep me company for lunch."

"Don't worry," Pepper waved her hand. "It's becoming somewhat of a past time of mine."


	6. Part 6

_**Author's Note: **_The book Tony is thinking about in this chapter is called 'From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler'. It's really fun and comes highly recommended ^_^ A few more comments regarding comic book canon: Rhodey suffered pretty bad headaches during his time as Iron Man (while Tony was on his drinking binge). Not that it's something to stress – because anyone can get headaches – but I just wanted to point it out for the sake of canon ^^;; Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedback! Enjoy and please review!

* * *

The intelligent and cultured man that Tony Stark _had_ been loved museums. It was an easy guess that he loved the Air and Space museum in Washington or the Science and Industry one in Chicago, but really he loved all of them. In this case, the Metropolitan Museum of Art provided shelter from the cold late November rain that was threatening to turn to sleet, and he loved that part most of all.

His brain might have been half-fried from years of severe alcohol abuse, but even half of Tony Stark's brain was more than enough. It was easy to slip past security. Easy to stay in the men's room until the last of the visitors left, and easy to avoid tripping any alarms and avoiding the night guards. By the time midnight rolled around, he pretty much had free reign. It reminded Tony of a book he had read as a child about two kids who ran away to the very museum.

First on the list was a raid of the up stairs staff room where he discovered a mini-fridge with half of a roast beef sandwich and tuna salad someone was saving for the next day and would likely thank him for eating. He grumbled at the lack of someone as simple as a beer to go with it, but... well, baggers, choosers... whatever. He finished the sandwich, washed it down with the remainder of scotch in his flask, and went downstairs to look for something to occupy his time.

On the way to the exhibits, Tony discovered an abandoned bag of pretzels and munched down the remainder as he entered and circled the medieval section where suits of armor from the middle ages were proudly displayed. There he took a seat on one of the center benches and simply watched them. The fact that he, a once-inventor and a futurist, had a weakness for all things related to knights and chivalry was well-hidden secret between him and the Arthurian novels he used to read in boarding school. Tony remembered idealistic dreaming that if he had such a suit, if he had armor like that... He did once, very briefly, and for those moments it made him feel...

Invincible.

But the armor was gone, forever lost in the Afghan sands, and Tony often thought that even thousands of miles away, he was lost with it. Unable to look at the suits anymore, he left.

The basement had all sorts of interesting things. Crates with artifacts for future exhibits – Tony could have sworn he recognized a few modern art pieces from his former private collection – and boxes with papers to go along with the transfers. None of that interested him. What was definitely interesting was the material marked for "Staff Thanksgiving Party". After rummaging for a few moments, he discovered several metal martini mixers, and where there were mixers...

_Jackpot!_

Tony grinned broadly as the unopened gallon bottle of vodka practically sparkled in the basement's dim artificial light.

* * *

Pepper was worried.

Which was stupid since Howard – for some reason she was still not sure she believed that was really his name – was not obligated to be in the same place every morning she drive by, but their little ritual breakfast had rarely been broken in the last three weeks and the rain had changed to sleet overnight. It was a really bad day to be outside.

_So maybe that's it_, she thought, fingers flying over the computer in her lap as she sat in the corner of the board meeting and took notes. _He's probably just hiding out somewhere._

Still she worried. Rhodey, who she had gotten to know over the past week, was arguing with some of the executives about a malfunctioning targeting system and mines which had a less than eighty percent successful detonation rate. The board wanted to talk to someone of higher rank, preferably a general. Pepper got the distinct impression that what Rhodey wanted was for the lot of them to go to hell and stay there.

"Idiots," the airman grumbled afterwards as the meeting broke for lunch. "If..." he stopped in the hallway and gritted his teeth. "Do me a favor: next time I start to say something like 'if Tony was here', I want you to take my sidearm and shoot me."

"I'll try," Pepper promised, "but I'd probably miss. I've never actually handled a gun."

"And you work for the largest weapons manufacturer in the country?"

"Just as their assistant," she smiled. "Want me to order lunch?"

"Nah, I'll pass," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "This migraine is threatening to eat my brain, so I think I'm going to to go back to the hotel for some Excedrin and try to sleep it off."

Pepper reached into her pocket, pulled out a two-pack of extra strength pills, and unceremoniously handed it over. Rhodey could not help but laugh.

"I hope they give you a raise soon. And a promotion. Like to CEO, so I can finally deal with someone intelligent again."

"Well, they tried," Pepper quipped, "but I had to turn them down. Too much stress. I have my hands full as it is, but thank you. See you tomorrow, Colonel."

The sleet was still coming down when she pulled out of the garage and her worry returned. She had not not intentionally driven by what she had mentally dubbed as 'his spot' on her way back since early on, but now Pepper pulled her car off if its typical return rout. She thanked God the roads were relatively clear – most people opted to take the subways or were already home – and that the ally was free of any stray boxes or garbage cans for her to hit.

Then she saw him.

"Christ," Pepper cursed and pushed herself out of the car. "Jesus f... Howard? Wake up!"

His skin was ice cold and he did not respond at all when she tried to shake him. Franticly, Pepper felt for a pulse and after a full minute of holding her own breath finally found it, rapid and irregular. She tried to move him, get him to a more upright position, when a bottle rolled out from his outstretched right hand. With a mixture of horror and disgust, Pepper stared at the empty gallon plastic jug of Smirnoff. She reached for her cell.

"Hospital now!"

"No..."

His voice was soft, barely audible. Pepper felt a wave of relief that he was apparently at least semi-conscious, but that relief switched back to fury in a heartbeat.

"You see this?" she held out the bottle in front of his face. He obviously did not see because his eyes were still closed. "This is alcohol poisoning. Guaranteed. We're going to the hospital."

"No..." he liked his lips and tried again. "No... hospitals. Can't... Don't...."

He passed out again before he could finish. She cursed again, not knowing what to do. He needed to be in a hospital. Regular drinker or not, she could not begin to imagine how much damage this amount of hard liquor could do. _But_, she looked down at the light in his chest. _Maybe he has real reasons not to want to be there._ Maybe it was not so bad, if he had managed to regain consciousness however briefly, but she still had to get out of the elements. There was only one real option left.

"Come on," Pepper pulled on his arm. "Get up. Just take a few steps with me."

He groaned. "No hospitals..."

"No hospitals," she promised.


	7. Part 7

_**Author's Note:**_ Again, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews and support. I hope this part was worth the wait. Enjoy and please review! Feedback is love.

* * *

To say that Tony's memory was hazy would have been just as big of an understatement as saying that he felt bad. 'Bad' was what he'd felt the morning after that one party at the Playboy mansion. This was more like 'might-as-well-crawl-into-a-gutter-and-die-it'd-be-less-painful'. Which, incidentally, had been his intention all along, and it might have worked this time if that woman had not interfered.

This was what Tony could recall:

At some point after half the bottle of vodka was empty he remembered being cold and wet and utterly miserable. That was not really new. What was new was that the fact that he did not stay that way. He remembered being half pulled half dragged to a car then having to clime what seemed like an endless flight of stairs. He remembered the sensation of warm water running over his body and down his throat. He remembered… barking? And then familiar elements came to mind, like the intense smell of vomit, the acidic burn in his throat, and the feel of a hard – though surprisingly smooth – surface under him.

On average the night was filled with bits of images and memories of sensations. He could not tell just how much later he awoke and could not begin to tell what part of the sourness and headache came from the hangover and what came from being curled up inside a bathtub of all places. There was a pillow next to him though, and a blanket thrown around his semi-naked body. Tony franticly looked under it. _Yup, all things in order and none the worse for wear_.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, succeeding after several attempts, then assessed his surroundings. He was obviously inside someone's bathroom. The fan was running. There was an odor in the air, no doubt the scent of air freshener attempting to mask the lingering smell of vomit, but the bathroom itself was surprisingly clean. Also...

Also there was a small, roundish, and very ticked off looking bulldog sitting on the tiled floor, looking very much like a fat Buddha statue from a Chinatown shop. It was staring at him and emitting continuous unhappy growls. Tony stared back, bewildered.

"Ahh... this is different," he frowned.

Apparently the dog did not care what was and was not different. The low growls turned into barking – he knew that hadn't been his imagination! – as the dog stood straight again. Reflexively, Tony scrambled against the slippery surface of the bathtub.

"Socrates! Stay!"

The dog and the man simultaneously looked up into the doorway where a clearly very angry Pepper stood, hands on hips. Tony wondered why her stilettos, which he had always secretly found unbelievably hot, all of a sudden looked like deadly weapons. Not that that in any way detracted from the way her legs looked in them...

"Outside," she told the dog, pointing into the hallway. "Right now, Soc."

Sending one last growl for good measure in his direction, the bulldog waddled outside. That was when she turned her full fury on him.

"Don't you dare speak," she held up a hand. Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out anyway. "I haven't said anything for the last three weeks because it's really none of my business, but you're in my home, and I spent the night making sure you didn't drown in your own vomit so I'm asking: are you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

He tried speaking again in vain. It seemed like such a... stupid question. Tony just wished he knew which direction that stupidity fell on. Pepper just kept looking intensely but no longer as if she was waiting for an actual answer. Finally she sighed.

"I'm late for work," she announced. "Your clothes are in the dryer. Feel free to take another shower. Actually, I insist that you do. There's food in the fridge you can help yourself to and a bag of kibbles for Soc. Pour some in his bowl and fill the other one with water around noon. They're both in the kitchen next to the sink. I'll be back right after work."

Her heals clicked once on the tiled floor then were silenced by the living room carpet. Tony did not dare to move until the front door slammed shut.

* * *

Pepper's memory was not nearly as patchy, though perhaps a little hazed by the lack of sleep, but she clearly remembered the effort of simply getting him up the stairs and into her apartment, shooing away a startled, then obviously jealous Socrates, guiding him to the bathroom, and making sure to aim for the toilet bowl to contain the mess. Thanks to one or two college roommates, Pepper knew the basics of dealing with someone who had had too much.

By the end of the night he had passed out in her bathtub, partially from the exertion of expelling the poison and partially from the alcohol that remained in his system. Pepper was exhausted, but she had just enough energy left to strip most of his garments and throw them in the wash and clean herself up as best as she could with her shower commandeered. By the time all that was finished, she was already late for work.

_It's going to be one of those days_, she realized fairly early on. Most of management was in the office which meant she could not slow down for a second, and the prospect of enjoying lunch with Rhodey was cut short when she learned that the lieutenant colonel was at a different site in the north part of the city. On the bright side, it was Friday, so all she had to do was survive the day before the blessed reprieve of the weekend.

Somehow she managed to do it. It was five-thirty, and Pepper was wrapping up the last of the paperwork. Within fifteen more minutes she was packing away her computer and heading towards the elevator, squeezing in just in time as the doors closed behind her. She was annoyed as she was once again shuffled out as several people exited. Worse, the doors closed and elevator moved on before Pepper realized she was left standing on the ground floor instead of the garage. She sighed, annoyed, but it did not matter much. It was easier to take the remainder by stairs.

That meant she had to cross most of the lobby which was actually interesting since Pepper usually took the elevator directly to her floor without much sightseeing unless she was sent down to meet clients in person. It was a nice space, large and airy, even more so than the rest of the building. She paused for a moment at an image hanging on the wall, one which was not the logo of some splinter company or a military-related emblem. Pepper tilted her head and studied the enormous portrait of the two men in slightly dated but still formal business suits, standing side by side in a clear gesture of friendship and camaraderie.

One, the more serious looking of the two, she recognized as Obadiah Stane, the current head CEO of Stark Industries. He worked mostly out of the West Coast office so Pepper had not yet had a chance to meet him, but she had heard a lot of things about the man. He was considered powerful, firm, even ruthless, and the sole reason S.I. survived the last few years.

The other seemed familiar, but Pepper could not say where she had seen him before. She knew he was not Tony Stark, the long missing – and for most, presumed dead – industrialist. The picture was much too old for that; Stane still had hair. It must have been the elder Stark, she realized, the founder of the company. What was his name? She walked closer and squint at the plaque.

"Howard Stark." _But why does he look so…_

The wheels in her head might have been slow to turn, but once they started, the stream of consciousness was unstoppable. _Impossible! _she thought at first, but what were the chances? What were the chances that the man who'd spent the night in her bathroom, the one with the unexplainable device in his chest, one who had given her the very name she was reading now bellow the portrait but did not believe actually belonged to him, looked so much like the founder of the very company he frequently expressed strong distaste for?

Like they could be… father and son.

Pepper's eyes went wide, and she dove for her cell.


	8. Part 8

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry this is a little bit late than usual. I'm in Maryland right now visiting my friend, the Rhody to my Tony Stark. Yes, I'm the crazy one ^^;; He's been great with helping me bounce ideas. *hugs* Thanks again for all the reviews and feedback! Keep 'em coming!

* * *

Tony did as he was told almost on autopilot because he still felt like shit, really did smell, and a shower was a luxury he did not come by often these days. He did not even begrudge the fact that he would smell like Dove cucumber shampoo and body wash. If his brain was running at full power, he might have even been secretly pleased by the absence of men's products in the place.

After the shower, Tony stretched out on the couch in her living room and slept again, deeply if not entirely peacefully, but he was exhausted enough so that he did not dream. He was awakened sometime later by the dog – Socrates, he remembered – who was standing on his hind legs, front paws braced against the couch, and half-growling, half-breathing right under his nose. Tony made a face.

"You again," he grumbled. "What do you want?"

One insistent bark came back in reply. With some effort, Tony pushed himself up and looked at the clock on the wall which read half past two. Hadn't Pepper said to feed the dog at noon? He muttered a curse, but rose and found his way to the kitchen with the bulldog padding close by. When he walked in, Tony suddenly stopped and stared at the small yellow puddle in the middle of the floor.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Karma, apparently, came with a sense of humor.

He was not entirely sure how he managed everything, but he cleaned up the mess and located the dog food within a half hour. Socrates did not looks so much as happy as relieved to finally have his delayed meal. As he slobbered over his bowl, Tony rummaged in the refrigerator successfully locating some sliced roast turkey, leftovers from what he guessed was a local subway place, a container of orange juice, a half-empty carton of one percent milk, and other edible items.

To his annoyance, he did not find wine or any other kind of alcoholic beverage he might have expected a woman like her to keep. _Everyone should have something for special occasions_, he thought unhappily. Then again, every day had been a special occasion for Tony for the last few years. He settled on the orange juice and sliced turkey and shut the fridge.

He spent the next few hours flipping through channels and a few books she had scattered all over her coffee table. After being fed, the dog largely ignored him which was fine with Tony. He kept glancing up at the clock to see if the hands had moved any closer to five. They always did, just not close enough. Tony contemplated leaving, just getting up and walking out the door, but the last shred of decency the streets has not stripped away demanded that he not leave her apartment unlocked and disappear before he had a chance to say thank you.

Even if that meant suffering through a few hours of withdrawal.

He was dozing on the couch again – sleep helped a little with the symptoms – when the sound of a key being inserted into the front door woke him. Tony sat up and watched as it opened and Pepper walked in, awkwardly holding her laptop case and two grocery bags. Socrates was out in a second as well, barking happily, and unintentionally getting under foot. Tony quickly took the grocery bags before she could trip on the dog or her high heels.

"Thanks," Pepper straightened, brushing a loose strand out of her face. "I know the fridge is half-empty so I brought rotisserie chicken."

Tony noticed. It smelled good. Socrates must have thought so too because the bulldog, who had been pointedly avoiding him all day, was now circling and hopping all around where he stood with the bag.

"I'll take it into the kitchen," Tony ignored him and set the bags on the high counter before turning to face her again. "How was your day at the office, sweetheart?"

"Insane," she chuckled at the pretense of familiarity and endearment. "My bosses are fighting with their Airforce liaison and making my life difficult in the process."

"Poor Pepper," he cooed.

"You look better, though," she noted, setting down the laptop and making her way to the kitchen sink to wash her hands.

"I feel like crap," he announced, and when she raised a brow, elaborated. "Withdrawal. But I smell better so that's something."

"Sure is," she smiled and pulled out two plates. "Food will help. Come help me with the utensils and napkins. You're not in a five star hotel."

Tony would have been perfectly happy to eat at the counter, but Pepper insisted on setting the table so he obliged. It was nice, he decided. The chicken and mashed potatoes were warm and filling, and he was surprised that the tea she offered him tasted better than coffee. It was almost like the good old days: good food, beautiful company, and... The only thing missing was a glass of wine, but he tried not to think about that right now.

The dirty plate were piled in the sink and he'd promised to do them after tea. He was just too comfortable at the moment. The moment did not last long though.

"I want to talk about last night," Pepper said finally.

He hid behind the cup. "It's been a while, but doesn't that usually imply certain things? I mean, my memory is foggy but..."

"I mean it," her tone was serious. "What were you thinking?"

Tony shook his head. "I wasn't. That's the point of getting _that_ drunk: to not have to think."

"But why?"

"Because," he said harshly. "Look, I'm grateful for everything you did for me. I really am. But there's things you just don't know or understand."

"Does it have anything to do with that device in your chest?" she nodded at the arc reactor. "Were you a..." she seemed to look for the right word, "a soldier? Is that from some kind of battle wound?"

"No," why did she have to be so nosy? "I wasn't a soldier. I was a... casualty. And this conversation is over."

She looked like she wanted to press the issue and was forcing herself not to. Tony rose and set his cup down on the coffee table, glancing back at her. Pepper sat rigidly, staring at the floor. He could not tell what she was thinking and decided that perhaps he did not want to know.

"I promise I'm done invading your space. Thanks again for everything."

He was not even halfway to the door before he heard her sigh and rise as well.

"Tony, don't."

He stopped because he was told to. It took a few seconds for him to realize that she had said his name. His _real_ name. Not his father's, the one he had given her, the one he'd almost gotten used to being called over the last three weeks, but his real name. The one she was not supposed to know. His hand pulled away from the doorknob, and he forced himself to face her again.


	9. Part 9

_**Author's Note:**_ I know the last one had an evil cliffhanger, but hopefully I've made up for it here. Again, thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews. I hope you like it! R&R!

* * *

_If he tries to deny it, I might scream._

That was all Pepper could think as she locked eyes with the infamous long-lost industrialist. She was very good at reading people, and with him there was nothing easier. He simply did not have a poker face and wore all emotions on his sleeve. If she had any doubts about his true identity before, they were erased completely by the speed at which he reacted to his name and the more than slight horror she saw in his eyes now.

"There's a photo of your dad in the Tower's lobby," she explained before he could attempt pretense, "and you really look like him. Maybe your should have picked a different name."

He continued to stare at her, and she had a feeling he was trying to keep his expression neutral but ended up looking livid instead. His left cheek twitched slightly, fists clenching and unclenching reflexively. She wanted to say something to pacify the anger that was just beneath the surface, but he spoke first.

"Who did you tell?"

Pepper blinked. "What?"

"Who did you tell about this little revelation? Is someone from S.I. coming up the stairs right now?" he twisted his head back towards the door looking slightly panicked now.

"No," she shook her head, "no one's coming. I didn't tell anyone. I was going to, but..."

Tony turned back on her sharply, not even bothering to disguise his anger this time. Pepper pressed her lips in a thin line and took a breath to recompose herself.

"I was going to tell Rhodey. I still think I should, and I _know you_ should."

The fight seemed to leave him then, his posture becoming less tense, though the exhaustion that always seemed a part of him appeared to have doubled. His shoulders sagged, and for a long moment she could tell he was somewhere else, somewhere in the distant past. When his eyes finally cleared, Pepper could see sadness and defeat.

"If you care about what I want at all, you won't say anything, especially to Rhodey."

She had a feeling he was going to be difficult. It was why Pepper had come in with a plan to confront him without a fight, but it looked like that was unavoidable now. She knew yelling at him was most likely unproductive, but she was not about to let him walk out the door without some kind of answers, some kind of attempt at resolution.

"I'm not mad that you did not tell me," she clarified. "That's within your right. I'm mad on behalf of all the people who, I know, have counted on you over the years. Do you have any idea what happened to your company after you 'disappeared'? I'm just trying to understand why."

"Last I heard the company was humming along just fine," he shot back. "You think I haven't seen the Tower? Clearly they're not strapped for cash since that thing was built _way_ after I went AWOL."

"S.I. _barely_ survived you going AWOL," Pepper retorted. "And what about your friends? What about Rhodey? I've known him for a week, and all he talks about is you. You should hear him: like you're his brother who went off to war and never came back."

She could tell that one hit home. Tony set his jaw.

"If you care about what I want, you won't say anything," he repeated.

Pepper did not know what to say to that. She did not want to fight, and from the looks of it he just did not have the strength for it.

"Tell me something," she tried again in a calmer tone. "What happened to you?"

He sighed. "Can't you just pretend I'm just another throwaway from the streets?"

"No," Pepper shook her head. "The weather's getting really bad and isn't likely to improve till spring. Even if I didn't know anything more than I knew yesterday, I couldn't just let you go back out there. Call it a woman's over-fussing."

"Damn straight," he screwed his eyes shit and sighed. "Shit happened, okay? A lot of shit. And I couldn't deal with it, so I dug myself into this hole. Who knew the great Tony Stark was not as invincible as legends claim, right?" he added bitterly.

She dropped her gaze to the carpet again. Maybe he was right. Would she have expected an elaborate tale if he was anyone else? She was judging him based on his reputation from years ago. Unfair, because whatever else he had been or still was – billionaire, genius, innovator, alcoholic – , he was first and foremost a man of flesh and blood.

"What can I do to help?"

His raised his head and forced a smile. "Nothing."

"You spent three or four years in the gutter, drinking yourself into oblivion. Don't tell me you don't need help," she insisted.

"You still don't get it, do you? I _like_ oblivion," he took a step towards her, his right hand raised for emphasis. Pepper stared at it. Tony wondered why she was looking at it instead of his face, but then he saw the tremor as well. Angrily, he shoved his hand into his pant pocket, and she averted her gaze.

Now Pepper was mad.

"Fine. Go for it," she turned the full force of her fury on him. "But wouldn't a gun be quicker? I don't have one on hand, but Rhodey offered to give me lessons once. I'm sure he and I can work something out, especially if he knows its for such a worthy cause."

She hoped his head was spinning because hers sure as hell was.

"No, I don't know what happened to you, but if you're half the man your friend talks about..."

"Obviously I'm not," he spat through gritted teeth. "Rhodey has a flare for the dramatics. I bet he wouldn't say the same thing if he saw me now."

A beat passed. Then, for some absurd reason, Pepper burst out laughing. She knew he must have been staring at her in disbelief, but she could not help it. She was exhausted of going in circles and had just realized that it was because she had heard this already, just not from him. Pepper laughed until she had to brush away tears.

"God, you should hear yourself. The two of you... I'm sorry, it's just so funny. I don't know if you need couple's therapy or if I should just put you two in a padded room with boxing gloves and let you settle your issues that way."

The last of the laughter left her system, and she sobered, taking the remaining few steps towards him so that they were close enough for her to see the light in his chest rise and fall slightly as he breathed.

"I don't think you're worth helping because you're Tony Stark. I think you're worth helping because I've known you for over three weeks and that's the conclusion I came to and because there's at least one person who knew the man you'd been and wants his friend back."

Tony said nothing to that, but he did not look like he was going to fight her again either. Whatever battle he was waging, it was entirely with his own mind, with his own person demons.

"I can't do it, Pepper," his voice was barely audible. "I'm... I'm not strong enough."

"No one is strong enough alone," she smiled encouragingly and held out her hand. "Let me help you."

He was staring into nothingness again, and as good as she was, at that moment Pepper could not tell exactly what was going through his mind or where the final decision would land. She hoped he would let her help, because she honestly wanted to and, if it was not too presumptions of her to think so, his life depended on it.

"Okay."

She almost missed his words, but she certainly did not miss his hand falling in hers. Pepper could feel it shaking – whether from withdrawal or fear or both, she did not know – and she gave it a firm comforting squeeze.

"It's going to be okay," she promised and released him to reach for the phone. "We have the whole weekend ahead. Let me call Rhodey..."

"No."

The finality and strength behind the word forced her to stop. "But..."

"'No' is a complete answer," his tone brooked no argument. "This stays between us. No one, not even Rhodey, hears of it. I mean it, Pepper. The moment this leaks for any reason, I'm gone, and I swear you'll never find me."


	10. Part 10

_**Author's Note:**_ Woohoo! I'm three for three this weekend ^_^ Will be on my way home tonight so I'll have time to write on the train again. Oh, and my experience with alcohol withdrawal symptoms and treatment is limited to wikipedia, so if I get anything wrong, I'm sorry. Enjoy and please review!

* * *

Pepper loved sleeping in on the weekends. It was something she looked forward to all week, and even Socrates knew not to bother her then. Unfortunately her house guest had never been informed of this particular sacred rule. She was forced awake abruptly by a continuous high pitched beep and loud crash from the living room, followed by startled and frightened barking. Without thinking she bolted out of bed, grabbed a robe, and swung open her bedroom door. As soon as it was even slightly ajar, Socrates scrambled through and dove under her bed.

She ran into the living room to find Tony sitting cross-legged on the floor with various mechanical parts and plastic casings scattered all around him that looked eerily familiar. There was a screwdriver in his hand, and she briefly wondered where he had managed to find it since she had not seen the thing since she had moved in.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, then her eyes widened as they circled the mess of parts. "Is that my laptop?"

"It _was_ your laptop," Tony corrected, and when she gave him a horrified look, quickly added. "And will be again soon, I promise. I'm just upgrading it. Couldn't sleep. Kinda twitchy."

"Yeah, I can see that," she did not sound any more pleased. "Why are you so..."

"Neurotic?" he supplied. "Ahh... well, thanks to you and your _brilliant_ ideas... No, sorry, that's coming out wrong. They _are_ brilliant, I'm just not appreciating it right now. Anyway, thanks to your brilliant ideas, I'm looking forward to at least a solid week or two of seriously shitty withdrawal symptoms."

"Oh," was all she could manage.

"That was part of the package, right?" he clarified. "Sobriety. That's what I got out of our little heart to heart last night, but feel free to tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me I'm wrong."

"No, you're right," Pepper's smile was almost serene. "You can thank me later."

"Yeah, don't hold your breath," Tony muttered unhappily, then his face brightened. "On the other hand, you get to suffer with me... I mean, enjoy the worst of it – the first seventy two hours – all throughout this weekend. Hope you didn't have any plans."

Pepper gave him an incredulous look.

"Right," he continued. "You're freaking out. Don't freak out. I'll fix it, I promise. And it'll be better. Much better... where are you going?"

"Coffee," Pepper muttered. She had tuned him out a full minute prior as she padded into the kitchen and reached for the can, "then feel free to babble."

"Oh, so you're allowed your drug, but I'm not?" he called after her, but scrambled to his feet and followed, hopping onto the tall bar stool at the counter.

Pepper put the coffee maker to work, pulled a yogurt out of the refrigerator for herself, and sat a cup of warm milk and grilled cheese sandwich in front of him. She climbed onto the stool on the other side of the counter and spooned the yogurt as they waited for the coffee to finish.

"How long does it usually last?" she asked seriously. "Withdrawal."

"A while," Tony shrugged. "I went for about five days once without a drink just because I didn't have any cash. Worst five days of that year. Don't think I've been sober for longer than that since... for a while. You've never had to deal with an alcoholic before, have you?"

Pepper shook her head, and he smirked without a trace of humor. "Lucky you."

She _had_ been lucky, Pepper realized. What had started yesterday with the shaking of his hands and insomnia was quickly escalating into nearly every symptom she read about in the short span of time that her computer was put back together to when she had to clean up the bathroom again. She discovered that the anxiety and restlessness made him talkative and watched from the couch as Tony paced her living room and chatted about anything and everything. Everything but details about his past she really wanted to know, anyway.

"Spring break, 1987," he went on, compulsively drumming his fingers any surface within reach. "That was fun. Rhodey guessed wrong. Did he ever tell you that? Of course not. No, he wouldn't."

It was already three, and within the first few hours that he had started, Pepper learned that he was mostly talking to himself and neither expected or heard her answers, so she stopped trying to. He was sweating a lot as well, to the point where she was ushering him to the shower every few hours which helped a little, not just with the smell but with the tension headaches. She wondered if maybe next time she could slip out long enough to go to the pharmacy.

"Is there anything that'll help with the symptoms?" she tried to make it through the fog of his mind. Tony looked at her and blinked, as if surprised there was someone else there.

"Ahh... humm," he smacked then licked his lips. "Benzodiazepines, Librium, Atavan, Heloperidol... that helps with psychosis, so I don't need that one..."

"That'd be first on my list," Pepper muttered, but he obviously did not hear her. She raised her voice slightly to get his attention. "What about the others?"

He blinked rapidly and took a few fast shallow breath to regain some focus. "Benzodiazepines are most common but they also increase the cravings, so that's definitely out. Moot point, 'cause I don't think any of that's sold over the counter."

"Then maybe we _should_ go to a hospital," she offered, though knew he would never agree. "I'm not sure you should be going through this level of detox without professional supervision."

"You know what would make everything better? A glass of scotch. That'd help with _all_ the symptoms," he grinned at her, but retreated when he saw that she was not amused. "No hospitals. They'll take one look at me and this flashlight in my chest, and you'll have the whole of S.I. knocking down your front door."

"You could have a heart attack or seizure..."

"Unlikely," this time his fingers drummed against the glowing circle. Pepper could not tell how much of the statement was from ego and how much actually had to do with the device. "None of this is going to matter if they find out."

"It's also not going to matter if you're dead," she pointed out, refrained from asking again why he was so afraid of anyone knowing that he was alive. Tony just gave her a wistful smile.

"I've been through..." he looked like he wanted to say 'worse' but did not know if that was actually true. "Just trust me on this one, okay?"

Pepper gave him a hard, uncertain look. She did want to trust him but at the same time had no desire to play Russian roulette with his life and had a feeling that it was going to get worse before it got better. She got up, guided him to the couch and made him sit while she brought a glass of cold water from the kitchen.

"Will you be alright if I run to the drugstore for about a half hour? I want to see if they have anything over the counter that would help."

He squinted at her, trying to wrap his addled brain around the question, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'll... I'll be fine. I promise I won't burn the house down or anything like that."

"Good," she went for her purse and coat, "and don't terrorize Soc either."

"Tell _him_ not to terrorize _me_," he called after her.

When the front door closed, Tony turned his head in the direction of her bedroom where the bulldog had just emerged and was now sitting in the doorway and staring at him angrily. The man gave him a dirty look.


	11. Part 11

_**Author's Note:**_ A huge thank you goes out to my friend Chris for letting me bounce ideas off him all weekend and to Kiraboshi for beta-reading and... well, reality-checking. Couldn't have done it without you, guys! Thank you so much! Please enjoy and read and review!

* * *

When she entered the CVS a few blocks away and asked about over the counter relief for alcohol withdrawal, the pharmacist asked how severe the symptoms were. Pepper told her, and the woman in white stopped half-way to the isle and gave her a serious look.

"He should be in a hospital under watch," she said severely. "They'll write a prescription..."

"Believe me, I tried," Pepper interrupted. "My friend's stubborn and very proud. Anything you can give me here will help."

The woman did not look at all pleased with that, but she could do nothing but hand her a bottle of vitamins with concentrations of thiamine and folic acid and Tylenol PM in the smallest container available. She instructed Pepper on when to administer the vitamins and told her to only let him use the sleep-inducting pain killer in the smallest quantity possible.

"Your friend probably has trouble sleeping right now and will want to go through these like candy. Don't let him. For that matter, don't do it yourself."

Pepper thanked her and took the items to the front counter. As she waited in line, her eyes idly passed by the magazine stand, finally landing on a cover of _Scientific American_ where a caption promised that page 38 told all about a new innovation in medical-related technology. She almost went for it when she noticed the recent picture of Obadiah Stane on the cover. Pepper did not know how Tony felt about the man currently running his company, but decided less than forty-eight hours into sobriety was not the time to find out.

She was pleased to see that her apartment building was, in fact, still standing when she returned to it and was not surrounded police cars or ambulances. The neighborhood was no more or less loud than it usually was on a typical Saturday late afternoon. Nothing was off inside either, and when she opened the front door, Pepper found the place just as she left it. Socrates did not even look too traumatized. She was almost reveled until she looked into the living room.

Tony stood in the middle of the room, his brow furrowed, left hand shoved deep into his pant pocket while the other barely held on to the remote. The television was on mute, but the caption at the bottom of the blurry images told of three people killed in a car accident just outside the Lincoln Tunnel. _Sad_, Pepper thought, but it was nothing uncommon. Accidents happened. Why was he so transfixed by this?

"Tony?" she touched his arm.

"Breaks failed," he said absently and cocked his head to the side as if thoughtful. His eyes never left the screen. "Shouldn't have, but they did."

"It was an accident." She did not ask how he knew that just from the minimal information from the captions and images.

"But..." He still sounded confused. "They shouldn't have failed. I could've fixed them."

It was her turn to frown. "You didn't know those people, and you never touched their car."

"I could've fixed them," he repeated. "Could've built it so the breaks _never_ failed. It didn't have to happen. They'd still be alive."

Pepper had no idea what he was talking about, so she gently took the remote from his hand and turned off the television. It did the trick of snapping him out of wherever he was. When he finally looked at her, it was with some clarity, and he suddenly seemed surprised to see her.

"You're back."

"Yes. Come on. Let's have you eat something."

The attempt was partially successful. He kept the food down long enough to take the vitamins, but within an hour and a half he was in the bathroom again. When he finally emerged, Tony looked predictably angry. Even before she had guessed his identity, Pepper understood that he was an extremely proud man, and that was doing nothing for him now. He wiped his mouth, brushed past her, and plopped down on the couch to sulk. She decided it was best not to try to pacify him just then and settled in the armchair with her laptop.

He remained eerily quiet for the next few hours. It was already nine, and Pepper was starting to contemplate that Tylenol PM for both of them. Getting knocked out and sleeping in on Sunday sounded extremely good. She wondered if she could persuade him to try to eat again before he took the medicine and looked up to ask. He had slid down from the couch to sit on the floor so that he could use the coffee table without leaning over. Scraps of various papers with what she first thought were doodles but then quickly recognized as formulas all over them were scattered around. At the moment he was diligently working something out in the small spaces between the newspaper comics.

"I think we should both try to sleep," she announced. "I have some sleeping pills, but you need to have something in your stomach for that. Maybe some crackers and ginger ale would..."

"Do I look pregnant to you?" he glared.

"You look irritated," she said evenly. "I'm trying to help, but you've got to work with me. This is new territory for me, too. And no, don't tell me that 'one small drink' will help. You said it yourself that you made it five days before, so I know you can do it again."

They compromised on dry toast, and when Pepper was satisfied he had successfully consumed two slices she handed him one of the blue capsules and held out a cup of tea. Before she could protest, Tony took the container, dumped another pill into his palm, and washed down both with the tea. She looked severely pissed off, but he silenced her protests.

"You want to sleep tonight, remember? At least this way there's a good chance I'll stay knocked out till morning. Two's the recommended dosage, anyway. See here? It's on the label."

She still did not approve, but Pepper could not argue with the results. He was out within a half hour, resting somewhat awkwardly on his left side on the couch. She wished she had invested in a futon, but back then it had been a needless expense considering the size of the apartment and the fact that Pepper rarely had guests. She worked until the single tablet she had taken finally took effect, then trotted to her bedroom, leaving the door open just in case.

Sunday was more of the same. Both managed to sleep through the night which made the rest of the day bearable. Pepper had only a vague idea of what to expect but found that dealing with Tony and his withdrawal was much like dealing with an irritable toddler who sporadically shifted between a sugar high and crash. She found herself wondering what they were going to do the next day when she had to go back to work.

"My cell is on the fridge," she told him later in the afternoon. "Call me tomorrow if…" there were so many scenarios of what could happen while she was out, "if you need to."

"Humm," Tony hummed absently.

He was busy with the pencil and legal pad she had given him earlier – Pepper was tired of marks all over every scrap of paper in sight – only this time it really did look like doodles rather than formulas. He was more subdued now, apparently in a period of fatigue, and she did not want to agitate him too much but needed to make sure he was paying attention.

"Can I leave you alone tomorrow?" she repeated.

"I don't need a babysitter."

_Have you seen yourself lately?_ Her look must have conveyed the message.

"Do you have a choice?" he amended. "It's not like you can work from home. I know what those sharks are like."

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "But I mean it: call me if you even _think_ about leaving. Or drinking."

This time it was his wry smile that spoke volumes:

_You're not exactly qualified to be my sponsor, Pepper._


	12. Part 12

_**Author's Note:**_ Another huge thank you to Chris and Kiraboshi for beta-reading and idea-bouncing. Thanks, guys! Parts of this chapter might be very obscure (one part is from the novelization of the first movie) so I'm sorry about that, but we'll have a little break from Tony and his craziness in the next one, I promise. Please enjoy and read and review!

* * *

Because two had been _very_ effective, she physically handed him one pill around nine thirty that evening. He angrily protested but, since she had hidden the bottle in her room while he was in the bathroom, could do nothing about it. Pepper did not take anything herself because she had work the next day and figured she could sleep as long as he did. It might have even been a reasonable assumption, if the opposite was not certain to be true.

She awoke because something banged in the living room and even tried to ignore it for a moment until the muttering began. Pepper screwed her eyes shut but finally rolled over and glanced at the digital clock which read half-past four. With a groan she forced herself out of bed. Tony was standing in the cramped space between the couch and coffee table which was a screw.

The bang she had heard was probably him hitting his leg on it.

"What's going on?" she demanded coming around to face him then stopped.

The expression on his face could only be described as wild, terrified. His eyes were open but glassy even as he looked around franticly without really seeing anything. He was breathing fast and hard, one hand constantly hovering at the ever-present light in his chest. Pepper was fairly certain he was not actually awake. _What is it?_ she thought anxiously. _Some kind of delirium tremor while sleepwalking? Night terror?_

"Tony? Tony, it's okay." She tried to reach for him, but he shrunk back as if struck as soon as her hand fell on his arm.

"No," he muttered. "No, no, no… gotta make it out."

_Out of where?_ Pepper frowned. "Where do you think you are, Tony?"

"We've gotta go. Gonna make it," he repeated. "Almost there. Just stick to the plan."

Pepper had gotten fairly used to not knowing what he was talking about over the last two days, but this was different. She had no idea how to respond to what he was saying or if he was actually hearing her and suspected he wasn't. She took a step closer, moving the coffee table out of the way so that neither of them were bumping into it, and held eye contact on her end. Pepper might not have known where his mind was telling him he was, but just the fact that he was standing here now meant something.

"Tony," she said; maybe hearing his name would help in getting him to snap out of it. "You made it out already. You're safe."

If the comment registered at all it was barely enough to make him pause and shift from hyperventilation to confusion and back again. He paced, muttering something unintelligible, and Pepper could do nothing but follow and do her best to make sure he did not bump into any more furniture. After about five minutes, he stopped again, the panic abiding slightly. Tony kept licking his lips and looking around in a daze.

"Hot," he said finally.

"What?"

"'s too hot." He stumbled a little. When she caught his elbow, he didn't struggle against her touch this time. "Sand... itches."

_Sand? _"Come sit down."

She guided him back to the couch without much protest from him. He managed to sit still and silent for a few minutes as she held his hand in both of hers, then shot up abruptly and began to pace again. At least he was not panicking. Instead he simply looked lost and tired. Pepper wondered where he though he was, what memory he was reliving. She had read about his capture and escape in Afghanistan some years ago but could only suspect the night terror had something to do with that and the escape.

The noise of sirens and hum of a helicopters passed by outside the window before fading into the distance again. Pepper might not have noticed if not for his immediate reaction. Tony's face lit up with sudden euphoria, and for an instance she thought he might have actually woken but quickly realized that he'd simply snapped into another memory. Was it the sounds? He made his way back to the couch and before she knew what was happening, he was on his knees and dragging her down with him, hugging her so tightly she could feel the metal outline of the device in his chest digging into her breastbone. His beard was rough against her smooth skin.

"Thank God," he was saying over and over again. "Thank God."

Pepper was startled but tentatively returned the hug and stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. Even after remaining that way for several minutes he refused to let her go, and the pressure from the device was becoming very uncomfortable. Finally she gently pushed against it just to be able to breath. He relented only slightly and frowned, looking down at where her fingertips were still pressed against the circle. Pepper held absolutely still; he was private about the thing to the point of paranoia. But instead of triggering another round of panic, Tony began to laugh.

"Bomb," he laughed, the sound tinged with hysteria.

_What?_ Her eyes widened, but she could do nothing but stare at him. Tony shook his head vehemently, still laughing and coughing.

"It's not...," his hands gripped her upper arms, but the hold wasn't strong. Was he trying to... _comfort_ her? "Not a bomb."

Pepper exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I know you can't hear me, but I hope you know you're a jerk."

He was grinning now and swaying a little on his knees. His hands dropped into his lap but not before they accidentally brushed over her breasts. Pepper blushed involuntarily and instinctively pulled her robe tighter around herself. _It's not like he's going to notice..._ He did notice and was frowning intensely.

"When'd you get boobs, Rhodey?"

If her hands were free, Pepper might have buried her face in them. She didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or cry. She was exhausted beyond measure, and the work day loomed only hours away. He was still on the floor, but she took his hands and managed to maneuver him to the couch again. The gentle pressure on his shoulders pushed him down until he was completely horizontal. By this point his lids were already drooping, and he shifted a little for a more comfortable position though his right hand was still firmly holding her left.

"I hate beans," Tony declared.

"Whatever you say," Pepper snorted. "Just give me back my hand."

But he was already asleep again.

She sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch. What was an hour or so lost sleep anyway?


	13. Part 13

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry for the slight delay, but the next chapter is already written so you'll get it after work tomorrow, I promise. As always huge thank you to Chris and Kiraboshi for beta-reading and idea-bouncing. And thank you to all the wonderful readers out there! You guys are so awesome ^_^ Please enjoy and keep up the great reviews!

* * *

When Tony finally opened his eyes, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. A dull ache permeated every fiber of his body, and he tried to role over onto his back for a more comfortable position then stopped abruptly. His hand wasn't free, and when he looked, Tony saw Pepper sitting sideways on the floor. She was leaning against the side of the couch, her head resting awkwardly on the cushion, and she was holding his hand. Or was he holding hers? Regardless, Tony suddenly had a feeling there was a real reason why he felt so tired and that he should have been making a serious effort to remember whatever happened last night.

Pepper stirred and when he released her hand, rubbed her eyes and looked around. When she noticed it was light outside, she shot up and ran into her room, muttering a curse. He tried not to pout that she didn't even check to see if he was awake.

"Morning, sweetheart!" Tony raised his head slightly from the armrest.

After a moment of rustling, a mostly-dressed though slightly wrinkled Pepper poked her head out the door. "It's almost eight! I'm late for work!"

He got the message and didn't bother her again until she walked out, laptop case and purse in hand. She sat them down by the front door only long enough to pour herself some cold coffee from what was leftover from the previous morning. By this time Tony was vertical and also came up to the kitchen, resting his forearms on the counter.

"Do you want me to do anything while you're out?" he asked.

"No, just stay out of trouble." She made a face as her tongue came into contact with the stale coffee but swallowed. "I'll try to be back as soon after five as I can."

He bit back the response about not needing to be babysat, actually surprised by his level of self-control. She didn't deserve it after everything she'd done for him. Once again Tony found himself wondering why he had found her holding his hand earlier.

"I can do that," he promised, looking around for some other way he could be useful. "I'll... umm... I'll feed the dog."

"And make sure he always has water in the other bowl," Pepper told him.

Tony nodded, stifled a yawn, and sifted to keep her in his sight as she dumped the remainder of the coffee into the sink, rinsed the cup, and picked up her things again. "Umm..."

"What?" Pepper barely paused.

"Ahh... this is kinda weird," he looked down at his hands. "But... umm... would you mind... I mean, I don't think I slept really well, so if it's okay..."

"I'm really running late," she she reminded him impatiently.

"Do you mind if I slept on your bed while you're gone?" he blurted out finally. She looked as if she was not sure what he was asking. Tony fidgeted. "I'll sleep on the covers and everything. And I'll shower, don't worry."

Pepper shook her head as if trying to clear it, then nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Get some rest. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Okay." He watched her go, then trotted to the bathroom.

She hadn't had time to make her bed before she left, but after he emerged from the shower, Tony dutifully pulled up all the covers before blissfully plopping down on his stomach diagonally across the bed. He lay still for a moment before shifting to a more natural position.

_God, this is so good..._

It was the most luxurious feeling he'd experienced in years, maybe even ever. The mattress felt better than any overpriced imported bed he'd owned in Malibu. So soft and comfortable and... and oh, God, that smell. Tony buried his face in the pillow and inhaled deeply. Everything smelled like her, and he reveled in it.

_You're a sick man, Stark,_ taunted a malicious voice in his head. _Think she'd still let you sleep here if she knew you were all but humping her bed?_

_Shut up._ Tony felt angry and humiliated. The demon was most likely right, but at the moment he couldn't care less. He shut his eyes and slept.

* * *

"I don't usually say this to women out of self-preservation, but you look like hell."

Pepper couldn't help but smile at Rhodey's voice hovering above her. It was close to lunch, marking the first time she had a break all day. She should eat, she supposed, but at the moment the task of getting her head off the desk seemed impossible.

"Just for that, I'm officially revoking your 'knight in shining armor' status," she groaned into her arms but finally raised her head.

The lieutenant colonel smiled. "I can live with that. Are you going out for food?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" Pepper pushed her hair back, running her fingers through it.

"Yup. Come on. Up." He made a motion with his hand. "The suits'll survive without you for an hour."

She let herself be pulled up and ushered out towards the elevator. The irony that she had spent all weekend – or the last three weeks, really – hovering over Tony in a similar manner was not lost on her. It was hard not to feel guilty every time she looked up at the airman across the table at the bistro both had become so found of. _Stupid stubborn Tony_, she thought. _He deserves to know..._

Rhodey was telling her something about the meeting he had with the Stark R&D team on Friday uptown. It was more for the sake of conversation than anything business related, but Pepper knew she should have been paying attention, if only because it was polite. As it was she was simply nodded every once in a while. Finally he noticed that her attention was elsewhere.

"What's wrong? Job getting to you already? I would've bet you'd last at least a month," he tried to joke, but he looked concerned.

"No, it's fine." She waved her hand dismissively. _It's a vacation compared to this weekend_. "I'm okay, just tired. It's been a stressful few days."

"Want to talk about it?" he offered earnestly.

_Yes!_ "No. It's nothing serious, really," she assured him. "I have a friend crashing at my place, and I'm not exactly used to having overnight guests. Small apartment and all, you know."

"Aha," Rhodey took a bite of his burger but never broke eye contact. He didn't sound like he believed her. "Friends shouldn't cause this much stress."

_Your friend does. How did you do it?_ she thought. _Was it this bad when you knew him? How did you do it for years, when I want to cry after a weekend?_

There were so many other questions she wanted to ask. It finally clicked, as she thought back to Tony's night terror, that Rhodey had been there when he was rescued from Afghanistan. He must have witnessed the rapid downward spiral of the once-powerful and charismatic billionaire into the man she'd met weeks ago, the man who'd completely given up on himself. She wished she could have appended 'till now' to that thought, but the truth was she still had no idea where his head was at.

"Feel free to tell him that," she said jokingly even though there was no way that was happening in the near future. "Maybe he'll listen to a big scary army man."

"'He'?" Rhodey's tone shifted into dangerous mode, and Pepper couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't," she held up a hand, still giggling. "Let me guess what you're about to say: 'At the risk of sounding old fashioned and not that it's any of my business, but what's some guy doing crashing at your place when you live alone?' Something to that effect, right?"

"Well, since you mentioned it..."

"Your concern about my virtue is flattering, Colonel," she smiled, "but unnecessarily."

"If you say so," he clearly still didn't like it. "But I seriously hope your 'friend' gives you a break. No offense, but you really look like you could use it."


	14. Part 14

_**Author's Note:**_ See? See? I told you it was quick ^_^ Gives me a little more time to work ahead, right? Haha good thing my boss doesn't know my pen name ^^;;

* * *

Tony slept for a few hours, got up, filled the dog bowl, and went back to sleep again. He woke for good around three, feeling somewhat better though not yet entirely normal. Then again 'normal' had been such a fluid word for him over the past few years, even before Afghanistan. Tony wondered when was the last time he been truly... healthy. Probably not since his early twenties if not late teens, which was an extremely depressing thought, considering he was pushing forty.

_Where's a good bottle of scotch when I need it?_ he couldn't help but think, then immediately winced, shifting from annoyance to guilt to anger about twice as quickly as he could keep track of the emotions. Tony glanced at the number on the post-it on the fridge. She _had_ said to call, but what was he going to say? It was bad enough he had robbed her of all her free time. He was not about to bother her at work too.

By the time Pepper did make it home around six, he was already engrossed in another 'upgrade'. She didn't even blink when she walked through the door to find him on the floor with parts of her coffeemaker and toaster. All she said was: "Make sure it's all back together by morning," and set the bag of takeout on the table. When she pulled out the white styrofoam containers with two burgers, fries, and a side salad, Tony immediately shot to his feet.

"Have I been incredibly good and just didn't notice?" he asked, mouthful of burger.

"The house is still standing, so probably," Pepper smiled. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "I slept, so that's good, I guess. Thanks again for... you know."

He tried not to think about how being in her room, on her bed, had affected him in more ways than simply letting him rest. The pre-Afghanistan Tony Stark might have smirked and made a lewd comment, but he'd be damned if he disrespected her like that now.

"I'm glad it helped," Pepper smiled, obviously not knowing what was going on in his head. "That couch isn't very comfortable, so if you want to sleep on the bed while I'm at work, go ahead."

_Thank you!_ "Thanks," he nodded. "It really helped. I think last night was... rough."

He watched her carefully for any reaction, anything to indicate she was going to explain what happened to make him find her on the floor next to the couch that morning. Pepper took a breath and pressed her lips together, but instead of saying anything, turned her back to him to dispose of her empty container in the trash.

"How are you and Soc getting along?"

"Pepper," his tone was somewhere between annoyed and tired. "I'm pretty used to blackouts, but I need to know what happened last night. I'm not quite full of myself enough to think that you slept on the floor for the pleasure of my company."

He could see her shoulders sag slightly, and after a moment she finally turned around, leaning on the edge of the sink. For a second Pepper folded her arms, then moved to rest her palms on either sides of the counter behind her as if she didn't know quite what to do with herself.

"You just had a nightmare. That's all."

"That's all?" There was something about her tone and body language that would not let him believe her.

"You might have said some things," she conceded. "Bumped into the table..."

She was being evasive, but Tony was quick to connect the dots. His frown deepened in realization. "So it wasn't 'just' a nightmare," he concluded. "It was a full-blown night terror."

Pepper said nothing, but she was clearly trying to hide the look of pity. He hated it so much, his teeth gritted. He glanced down and ran a hand through his hair, somehow simultaneously both angry and self-conscious. "I... I haven't had one of those since..."

"...since you started self-medicating with liquor," she supplied cautiously. He looked up, glaring. "I'm not judging, Tony, but I think you have to deal with it. Do you ever remember them?"

"No." _But I bet I can guess_. "What exactly did I say?"

"You seemed... anxious. You kept saying something about needing to 'make it out' and then something about 'sand', that it was hot. I think you were dreaming about your... your time in captivity." When he gave her a sharp look, all she could do was spread her hands. "I heard about it some years ago like everyone else. I don't live in a cave."

"I did," his voice was rough, dangerous, "for three months, one week, and four days. Over three months of waking up and wondering if I'd make it through the day, wondering when those bastards would finally figure out I was fucking with them and shot me."

She said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was: he might have spent months not knowing if each day was his last because he was being held captive, but he'd spent far longer not knowing if he'd wake up the next morning because he _chose_ to drink away the pain.

"But you got out," she finally reminded him. "I don't know how, but..."

"Rhodey," he interrupted. "Rhodey saved me."

The last thing he needed was someone – even her – asking questions about the circumstances of his escape. Tony trusted her as much as he was capable of trusting anyone, but he wasn't ready to talk about the suit. Besides what he said wasn't a lie. Rhodey might not have been the one to get him out of the cave, but without his friend he would have surely died in the desert.

Pepper smiled. "I know. You kept thinking I was him last night."

"Ha!" Tony had to laugh with her. "Well, unless he's made some pretty drastic changes..."

"He hasn't," Pepper assured him. "I had lunch with him today. He..."

"I don't wanna hear it." She gave him a warning look, and he relented a little. "Please, Pepper. Would you really come home and talk about the _other_ man?"

She rolled her eyes. "There are so many things wrong with that statement; I don't even know where to start."

"Exactly my point." Tony slid off the bar stool. "Don't start."

She didn't look happy, but he wasn't about to budge on the issue. There was a list of off-limits topic in Tony's head that went read something like Afghanistan, his arc reactor, the suit, Rhodey, Obediah, and S.I.. Pepper was well-meaning and stubborn, and he was fairly certain she would try to break down each of them methodically given the chance and the time. Maybe he'd even let her, Tony thought. He had already unintentionally exposed some things about Afghanistan, but to talk about it in the open? Everything was still too raw and painful.

"Let's watch a movie," he announced, effectively changing the subject. "You pick."

Maybe she was in a mood to torture him, but Pepper grinned as she popped the time-travel romantic comedy "Kate & Leopold" into the DVD player. To make matters worse, Socrates pointedly plopped his plump wrinkled body between them on the couch and happily rested his head in Pepper's lap. _Nice_, Tony thought sarcastically. _A chick flick and the dog's rear end_. But he couldn't help but smile contentedly.


	15. Part 15

_**Author's Note:**_ So so very happy this week is over. I'm so exhausted from my work, it's not even funny. _ Thank you so much again to all my reviewers and my beta. I promise the pace will pick up a little soon. Enjoy and please review!

* * *

After a fairly quite Wednesday work day, Pepper had been expecting to come home to yet another pile of dismembered parts, but her living room was surprisingly clean. Socrates was in the kitchen chewing on his rubber bone. She frowned, sat everything down, and looked around. Where was he? She'd told him to call if he...

The sound of light snoring came from her bedroom, and Pepper gave a nearly audible sigh of relief. Kicking off her shoes she carefully tip-toed inside. Tony was sprawled on his stomach, forearms tucked under her pillow. He was still too thin and pale, but while he slept he looked peaceful. She smiled to herself and watched as he shifted slightly.

_Sleeping in jeans can't be fun_, Pepper thought, noting the same torn pants she had washed on Friday. _He's overdue for some new clothes. More than three years overdue._

"Tony."

Pepper bent slightly to touch his bare shoulder. As much as she would have liked to let him sleep, she didn't want him roaming around at night. He stirred a little, rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand, but showed no intention of rising. Letting out a puff of air in annoyance, she poked at his shoulder again.

"It's almost seven, Rip Van Winkle, and I brought cupcakes."

They were on the couch a few minutes later. Tony's eyes were roving over the six assorted pastries in front of him as if he was worried about picking wrong. Finally he settled on one, pulled it out of the plastic container and began to methodically peel away the tissue paper.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, but he was already working on the white frosting.

"Milestone," Pepper said simply and tapped her nose. "You have a little..."

Tony whipped of the smudge of frosting and dragged his tongue over the top of the chocolate top, licking it clean. She watched him with a mixture of awe and amusement. Here was a man who wore more faces than anyone else she had ever heard of. Not that Pepper firmly believed every single line printed about him – half of them contradicted each other – but what she did know for certain painted a picture of a complex, brilliant, and haunted man. And one who, apparently, had quite the sweet-tooth.

"I vote for jelly donuts next time," he declared, finally biting into the baked part.

"I'm sorry," Pepper said sweetly. "This is a strict dictatorship. But you're welcome to submit your petition in writing to the ruler. It'll be given all the proper considerations."

"Can the ruler be bribed?" he wondered, playing along. "I offer my services in _any_ capacity she desires. I'm very handy around the house, in case you haven't noticed."

He wagged his brows for emphasis, and she laughed. Clearly he was in a good mood.

"I did notice. My toaster hasn't made anything but charcoal since I got it, so thanks for fixing that. But you'd probably be better off with walks and unlimited treats," she nodded in Socrates' direction. The dog was plopped down in front of the muted television. "Just in case you had any doubts about who _really_ runs this house."

Socrates lifted his head and gave Tony a glower which the man returned.

"Anyway," he turned back to Pepper. "You still haven't told me what's this milestone you're talking about."

"You told me before that you've only ever stayed five days sober," she smiled. "It's day number six. Happy anniversary, Tony."

He returned the smile though his was tinged with sadness. "You think that's it? That it's over?"

"You're an addict," Pepper said quietly but bluntly. "It'll never be over. But we have to celebrate the small victories, too, right?"

He chewed on his lip, as if thoughtful, then nodded and held up his half-eaten cupcake. "Cheers."

They finished their respective pastries in silence, and Pepper got up to put on the kettle for tea. She made a few more small attempts to talk about S.I. and Rhodey but stopped when she saw just how much it was getting under his skin. It might have been her first time dealing with someone going through withdrawal, but she knew she had to be careful. She switched to a safer but still necessary topic.

"We're going clothes shopping first thing on Saturday. And by first thing, I mean whenever we wake up," she announced, nodding at his clean but torn clothing. "Those will only survive so many more washes."

He blinked as if completely unprepared for the comment, then looked down. "I... I can't have you buying me clothes," he shook his head in disbelief. "You're doing so much as it is..."

"It's not a problem," she assured him and smiled. "Your company pays pretty well."

He didn't look amused and bit his lip, a frown creasing his forehead.

"I'll pay you back, Pepper. I don't know when, but I will. This... it's so stupid," his hands were fisted in his lap. "I never had to worry about money. Be it because I had more than I could ever spend or because I had none, but I never worried about it. Not past the point of turning whatever I had into the next bottle."

"Hey," she scooted closer on the couch and rested both of her hands on his forearm. "It's okay. Really. Besides, it's not like I shop on Madison Ave."

Tony chuckled, and she could have sworn there was something wistful and a bit... mysterious about it. Unconsciously she reached up to touch the dark waves of his hair which, while finally untangled, still fell to well bellow the nape of his neck.

"You could use a cut," Pepper mused, "and shave. I swear there are things living in that beard of yours."

He was still giving her that odd look and after a moment finally shifted slightly out of her reach. "It's a good disguise."

_From what?_ she wondered. _So that the world doesn't know Tony Stark is alive or so you don't have to recognize yourself in the mirror?_ Apparently both parts had been effective. The only reason she had made the connection was because she had been seeing him on a daily basis for three weeks at the time she saw his father's picture. There were just too many little things for her _not_ to have put the pieces together, but no one else had taken a second look at him for over three years prior.

As for looking in the mirror... something told Pepper he hadn't been able to do that long before the streets.

"Okay," she said after a long pause and glanced into the kitchen. "Tea's ready."

* * *

He made it a point not sleep at all at night, but he figured it was fine since he could sleep during the day. Of course, Pepper didn't need to know about it, so he lay awake for a long time, eyes closed, fingers entwined on his chest, and tried hard to think of nothing. Every once in a while he would catch the rustling of covers from the other room as she shifted in her sleep. For some reason he found it soothing. Much less pleasant was the sound of Socrates wining every once in a while in the kitchen. He was no doubt dreaming about chasing squirrels.

Tony turned onto his side and stared into the darkness.


	16. Part 16

_**Author's Note:**_ Right, so a lot of you expressed excitement at the shopping scene so I feel like I have to apologize in advance. I'm not a girly girl and understand nothing about clothes, but meh. Hope you still like it! Please read and review!

* * *

Pepper was a little surprised when she walked out of her room at nine-thirty the next Saturday morning, freshly showered and dressed, and found Tony already in the kitchen, both hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee. He was leaning against the counter, staring into space but blinked and refocused when he saw her. She smiled and padded to the fridge.

"Good morning." Pepper nodded at the cup. "I thought you didn't like coffee."

"I hate it, but it takes the edge off a little," he explained. "What's on the agenda?"

"Clothes shopping," she reminded him. Tony made a face. "Don't even think about complaining. I'm sick of looking at you in those. Besides, it's been over a week since I saw anything but the inside of the office, apartment, and my car, and I'm sure you're tired of sitting around here. We both need some fresh air."

"But it's cold..." he attempted. "Fuckin' December..."

"That's why we're going shopping first," she said reasonably. "Then maybe come back for Soc and take him to Central Park. He's been mostly growing sideways these days."

On the floor near the corner counter, Socrates raised his head and wined quietly as if offended. Tony gave him a smug look.

Overall, shopping turned out not to be nearly as long or painful as either had expected. Pepper reasoned that multi-layer was the way to go considering it was cold and even the darkest shirts didn't hide the light in his chest. So far, several bags held two new pairs of pants – jeans and a pair made from a thick khaki-like material – a few t-shirts for him to wear around the house, and several warmer long-sleeved. Three hours in, Tony had clearly reached his threshold of tolerance for the affair, and for her part Pepper was more than a bit frustrated by his general lack of interest in what she was buying. He only seemed interested when it was something he felt was too expensive for her to spend money on.

"Not a chance." Tony shook his head vehemently when she held up a winter coat.

"You need something warm," Pepper argued. "It's just $59.99. There are no prices like this."

"It's $65.31 with sales tax. Do you know how many b..." he stopped what he was about to say, cursed, and picked up another. "This one."

"That's something for like... the end of September!"

"As if I actually go anywhere."

To make him feel like she wasn't spending _all_ the money on him, she bought herself a pair of flannel winter pajamas. Tony wisely held his tongue.

Butting heads over clothing aside, Tony's physical and mental health seemed to gradually improve as the week passed. There were instances like the morning when he seemed to stare into nothingness only to snap out of it a few moments later, asking her to repeat what she had just said. Sometimes, he started talking without realizing he was speaking aloud, and she often had a hard time latching on to what had sparked the thought.

"I like the Tin Man," he said, suddenly, as they walked towards Central Park with Socrates.

"Why?" Pepper played along. They had passed a display in a bookstore window for the anniversary collection box-set for the 'Wizard of Oz', so this non-sequitur was easy to follow.

"He kept going without a heart. Don't get why he wanted one, anyway."

"Umm... I think the point was that he _always_ had a heart," she corrected gently.

"He was made of metal," Tony argued.

"But he had been human once. Remember?"

He frowned and stared ahead. "No."

She could tell by the escalation of his abrasiveness that he was running on empty by the time they returned to her place. Not surprising, since she knew he normally slept those hours during the work week. _Maybe it's better to try to shift back to a more normal schedule_, Pepper wondered. It was winter, so the sun had set a little while ago. If he could fall asleep now, there was a chance he'd sleep through till morning. Tony was less than enchanted with the idea.

"My brain hurts." He was slouching on the couch and sounded like a toddler in need of a nap.

Pepper thought on this for a moment, then started for her room. _It couldn't hurt_, she reasoned, as she reached her nightstand, _to let him take one sleeping pill if it would help him get back to normal_. Though she really needed to figure out a better sleeping arrangement... She rummaged for a moment and pulled out the bottle. It hadn't even occurred to her that it felt a little light until she popped the cap and only seven of the original twenty-four capsules spilled onto her palm. Pepper stared at them in confusion, then her face contorted in fury.

"Tony!"

Marching into the living room with the now-empty bottle, she held it out in front of his face. "What's this?"

He frowned momentarily before the realization of what she uncovered dawned on him as well. "Oh, fu... Pepper, I..."

"I'm absolutely beyond pissed off." She was in no mood to hear his flimsy defense. "Seventeen pills in a week? Are you _kidding_ me? What are you trying to do? Trade one addiction for another?"

She didn't even want to get into the fact that he'd obviously snooped around in her drawers for them, and he was wise enough not to point out that she had taken one of those pills last Saturday evening when she first bought the bottle. Marching into the bathroom and leaving the door open so that he could hear, Pepper threw the pills in her hand into the toilet and forcefully flushed the water. When she came back out she felt little better.

"Go ahead," she prompted, arms crossed. "Tell me what the hell you were thinking."

Tony's nostrils flared, and he shot to his feet. His anger looked like it could rival hers, but she highly doubted it. Still he was clearly ready to give it his best shot.

"I was thinking I need to sleep!" he shouted back. "I was thinking I need to _not_ wake up in a cold sweat every night. I was thinking I need to _not_ be walking around in the middle of the night, talking to myself like a lunatic, and scaring you to death. _That's_ what I was thinking."

_This is about the night terror_, she realized. "I don't mind..."

"No, you don't," he cut her off. "You don't mind staying up half the night to hold my hand, and you don't mind buying me clothes and feeding me for a month. You don't mind rearranging your entire life for me. _I_ mind!"

Pepper set her jaw. "When you're clean, I promise I won't do any of those things."

They stood a few feet apart, both too angry to speak. She sighed and wiped a hand over her face.

"I don't care how proud and stubborn you are. I can be stubborn too, and I'm not giving up this easily. But we can't keep going like this, Tony. _You_ can't keep going like this. You have to start talking to me."

His fists were clenching and unclenching, but within a moment he was storming past her, and the bathroom door slammed shut. A second later, she heard the shower running. Well, there weren't many places one could escape to in a one-bedroom apartment.

At about half-past midnight, he woke up screaming.

Pepper didn't have a chance to fall asleep herself, so she was out in the living room and shaking him awake in seconds. He fought and even took a haphazard swing at her, missed, but struggled until she managed to get a firm grip on his arms.

"Wake up!" she ordered. "It's just a nightmare, Tony. Wake up!"

He blinked, eyes wild and unfocused. When he seemed to realize what had happened, Tony let out a cry of frustration and buried his face in his hands.

"Is this what you wanted?"

The question might have been meant to be malicious, but he sounded, more than anything else, helpless. Pepper wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Tell me what happened. What did you see?"

He shook his head, and she couldn't tell if that was a 'no' to her request or if he was trying to clear the images of the nightmare. She waited for another moment before getting up and gently pulling him to rise with her. If he noticed that they were walking to her bedroom, he said nothing. Again, Pepper used a little force to push on his shoulders.

"Sit."

He did.

"Lie down."

Tony frowned slightly, but obeyed, immediately curling into the fetal position facing the wall. She walked to the other side of her bed and climbed under the covers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pepper was grateful she had invested in a queen-sized bed and in the flannel pajamas. Tony had his back to her, and she touched his shoulder. This time, his hesitation lasted longer, but finally he rolled over. They were inches apart, but even in the darkness, Pepper could see his eyes were screwed shut, his whole body tense.

"Tell me what you saw," she repeated, gently but insistently.

She could tell he wanted to say something, that every fiber of him fought to release the visions that haunted him. If he was back on the streets, he would be pushing them down with copious quantities of liquor. She was offering him a different way. Suppressed nightmares would only float back up, but if he gave them a voice, maybe there was a chance they would loosen their terrible grip on his life. Maybe Tony himself was beginning to understand that.

"I was back in the cave," he said finally. "They were screaming at me. Some language I couldn't understand. Yinsen was dead already. I figured I was next. And then..." He took a deep breath. "They brought _you_ out. They shot you in front of me, and I just... I just watched."


	17. Part 17

_**Author's Note:**_ The woman who makes a cameo in this chapter is not an OC but a character from the comics. She's often closely intertwined with Iron Man, especially in the v.3 comics so I thought I'd have her here too. Don't worry, this is still a Pepperony fic. Let me know what you think of her. Thank you, and as aways please read and review!

* * *

_Maybe weekends are cursed._

Pepper was firmly convinced of that as she wrapped up her Monday workday with no actual desire to go home. There were still a few more errands to run, but aside from that, she was preparing to go... and dreading it. All the progress she _thought_ Tony had made over the last week had gone completely out the window. Yes, physically he was better, but the insomnia and irritability had returned in full force. Between the two of them, they had slept maybe six hours in the past two days.

She was tired and frustrated and... And she wanted to cry.

As more and more people filed out towards the elevators, and the floor emptied, her perfect professional resolve began to crumble. All Pepper could do was focus all her energy on breathing. She was grateful that at the moment she was not out in the hallway, but in the empty office of one of the execs, moving files from the desktop to a backup external hard drive. At least if she burst out in tears now, there would be no one around to see her.

But then... well, Murphy's Law...

"Hey." Rhodey walked through the door, folder in hand. "Klein, the Director of Engineering told me I'd find you here. He asked me to give this to you to scan and fax over to the West Coast office... What's wrong?"

That was when she broke.

If she could see anything through the flood of tears, she would have seen Rhodey's momentary look of shock and panic before he switched to full offensive mode. He crossed the room in a few long strides, dropped the folder on the desk, and put an arm around her.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, but she was still crying too hard to talk. "Is it this guy of yours again? I swear..."

She shook her head vehemently.

"You don't understand," she sniffed, even though she knew he probably understood better than anyone else. "My friend... he's an addict. He's... it's bad, and I'm trying to help, but... God, I'm so... tired!"

Pepper had to give him credit for not running away at the sight of a sobbing woman. It took her a good ten minutes to calm down and accept the box of tissues Rhodey silently held out to her. She wiped her face as best as she could without a mirror, but suspected she still looked a mess. She _felt_ a mess, and she didn't even have the luxury of breaking down in her own home.

"I'm sorry," she said to the man standing over her. "You weren't supposed to..."

Rhodey shook his head, cutting of anything else she wanted to say. "Don't apologize. Honestly, I just thought it was some boyfriend stressing you out, but this... Pepper, this is serious. Have you talked to anyone about this? Has your friend gotten help?"

"I'm trying to..." she began, but he held up a hand.

"I don't want to be the bad guy, but whatever you're doing... I don't think it's going to be enough. Trust me; I know what I'm talking about."

_Yeah, you probably do._

But she wasn't going to ask. There was no point in forcing him to relive what were most likely the most painful memories of his friend. A friend he still thought to be dead. The same friend she was... Pepper wanted to cry again.

"I can't take him to the hospital," she said miserably. "He won't go. If I force it, he'll just run away. His best shot of getting better is with me."

Rhodey gave a sharp exhale. "You have no idea how big of a déjà vu I'm having right now."

"I know." She stopped. "I mean, I can guess. I heard about... Rhodey, please. I know it isn't perfect, but it's the best I can do."

He was silent for a moment, then nodded with some measure of acceptance.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," he said decisively. "You're going to pack your stuff, leave whatever you need to do for first thing tomorrow, and come have dinner with me. I'm supposed to be meeting a friend I served with a few years ago, but she won't mind. Don't argue, Pepper. Have you been out since your friend got here? No? Then it'll be a good break."

She _did_ want to argue. All she could think about as he drove them to the restaurant was Tony, alone in her apartment, getting more and more anxious as the time she usually came home passed. But if she made Rhodey take her back to her car, Pepper had a feeling that whatever explosion awaited her at home would be made worse by her foul mood. If there was a chance she could somehow recharge her batteries, if only a little, she and Tony would be the saner for it.

The place they arrived at was not fancy, but it was nice. Of course, Pepper might have even been perfectly happy with fast food if it meant being around sane people again. She wondered what Rhodey's friend was like, fairly sure that whatever preconceived notion she had about women in the military was completely off. As it were, about a half hour after they sat down, she was staring up at the woman in question with a sense of intimidation. The blond was easily close to six feet rivaling Rhodey's hight in only inch-tall heels. She wore form-fitting jeans and a very pale yellow turtleneck, both of which flattered her tall, lean figure. Pepper got the impression there was no piece of clothing that wouldn't.

"Colonel." She smiled sweetly at Rhodey.

"Captain." For his part, he looked like he was trying hard _not_ to smile, but was failing miserably.

"So." The woman sat between them, crossing one long leg over the other. "My sources tell me you're about to test pilot some sort of revolutionary new..." She waved her hand looking for the right word, "something or other."

"You have sources?" Rhodey raised a single brow. "Of course you do. Because you're you." He turned to Pepper before she could feel too left out. "Pepper, this is Captain Carol Danvers. She used to be in the Air Force too, but transferred to work with N.A.S.A. Security. At least that's what she tells me."

"Aww," Carol all but cooed. "You're just jealous I left you for bigger and better things. I'm sorry. Was that not professional?"

But she didn't look like she cared. In fact, she winked at Pepper, who attempted to hide her laughter behind her drink. Any wariness she had about the woman was quickly melting away. They shook hands, and she decided she liked her. Rhodey, on the other hand, looked less at ease. His skin tone might have let him hide it better, but Pepper could have sworn he was blushing. He rolled his eyes at the blond to hide the embarrassment.

"Last time I checked, I still outranked you, Captain."

"Last time _I_ checked, I wasn't part of your command anymore, Colonel." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Unless you ask me nicely..."

"Oh, hey, Carol." His tone was casual. "How much would you give to test pilot this?"

He still had the folder Pepper was supposed to file in the morning across the table and slid it across the table to her. The former officer opened it, briefly skimming over whatever documents and designs were inside. Pepper watched carefully as she first looked intrigued, then impressed, but ultimately bored. Carol closed the folder and handed it back to Rhodey.

"You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl, Rhodes," she grinned. "It does look like a pretty pieces of tech, but I'll pass. All things considered, the time-stamp on that is still A.T.S.. Try flowers next time."

"A.T.S.?" Pepper wondered.

"After Tony Stark," the other woman explained more somberly. "Sorry. We military types do love our initialisms. And no offense, you guys have had some okay tech lately, but I miss the good old days. Just because something has his name on it doesn't mean it's the same."

Rhodey was silent, and Carol cursed under here breath. "Damn. Sorry, Jim. That wasn't funny. I know he was your friend."

"He was your friend, too," the colonel said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Guess you and I just have different ways of handling things."

"Right. I wasn't the one bent over the toilet on last year's anniversary."

"Well, you kind of were," she reminded him. "You were there holding my hair. Thanks for that, by the way."

Pepper was feeling increasingly awkward around the pair, clearly witnessing a private moment. It still struck her every time someone talked about Tony in past tense, but it was even worse when it came from people who had clearly cared about him.

"I should be getting home," Pepper said, rising. Rhodey shot her a look, but she shook her head. "It was nice meeting you, Captain."

"Same here," Carol smiled. "I'm going back to the west coast in a few days, but keep an eye on Rhodes for me, will you?"

"No problem," Pepper returned the smile. "He's pretty low-maintenance."

_Unlike someone else we all know...

* * *

_

When the doors of the restaurant closed behind Pepper, Carol turned back to Rhodey. All pretense of casualness and flirtation were gone, replaced with a borderline furious expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand.

"First of all, I have to tell you that I resent it," she said forcefully. "I resent the fact that you have me do these things. Do you understand how this makes me feel? Do you really? Because I have to tell you, I feel like I just took a dump on Tony's grave. Tony, Rhodes! The man was more like my brother than the two I've got."

"He was my brother, too," Rhodey said grimly. "And if this pans out... Forget treason and national security. Carol, if this pans out, we're _protecting_ his legacy, not soiling it. Just tell me what you found out."

The woman sighed and shook her head. "Nothing good, Jim."


	18. Part 18

_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you so much to my dear beta and to everyone who reviewed. I'm thrilled you guys like this story. Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

"I don't want to fight."

Those were the first words out of Pepper's mouth when she returned home around nine thirty.

Tony had spent the last few hours intermittently pacing, fidgeting, and tinkering with the television. He would run out of appliances to take apart and put back together soon, he realized. And then he'd be left with the pen and paper. Pepper had very few technical books; most of the ones in the apartment were either business-related or fiction. He'd even come across a bodice-ripper, though it wasn't nearly racy enough for his tastes.

He put down the screwdriver. "Okay."

"Okay." She breathed an audible sigh, sat her things by the door, and went for the kettle almost ritualistically. "How was your day?"

"Shitty." His tone was curt. "I feel really, very shitty."

"I'm sorry about that," Pepper said evenly. He believed her, but it didn't make him feel any better. "I bought some decaf tea. It might help you sleep."

"Thanks. How was work?"

He didn't usually ask about S.I. because he honestly didn't want to know, but asking seemed only polite. Logically, Tony knew she was trying; no one else had put up with this much bullshit from him, except maybe Rhodey. However, the effort of keeping his irritability in check was daunting. He was used to exercising only the minimal amount of self-control, and now he felt like he'd been put on a treadmill going Mach 3. Tony was doing his best to stay a step ahead of his temper, but it was damn hard.

"Work is work." She emptied the leaves into the freshly washed tea pot. "It's hectic, but manageable. Rhodey and I went to dinner afterward."

"Did you?"

He'd meant to sound indifferent, mildly curious at best. Instead Tony was fairly certain he sounded... jealous. The most ridiculous part of it was that he had no idea who he was more jealous of: Rhodey, for spending what was most likely a nice normal evening with Pepper, or Pepper herself because she could see his old friend whenever she wished while he... wouldn't.

_It's your own fault_,_ Stark_, the voice in his head reminded him. _What makes you think he wants to see you at all after all this time?_

"I also met another friend of yours." If Pepper had guessed his inner turmoil, she said nothing. "Carol."

"Danvers?" His eyes lit up. "Wow. What kind of trouble is that girl getting herself into?"

"What makes you think she's in trouble?" Pepper raised a brow.

"Oh, she's always in trouble. She's too much like me to _not_ be in trouble."

"No offense, but I think she's in better shape than you are," Pepper said gently.

The corners of his mouth tugged a little, but if it was anything remotely like a smile, it was cold.

"She's... umm... how do I say this tactfully?" he tapped his lower lip. "Carol's like me, only less techy... and with a rack. Basically she's the twin I never had. Rhodey usually sees more of her than I do, being USAF and all. I think there's a fail-safe system in the universe; it can only stand the two of us in the same room in small doses."

"Then I have to give him extra points for being able to stay friends with both of you," Pepper quipped. "They seemed to be getting along."

"I'll bet," Tony snorted. She was giving him an odd sort of look. "What?"

She bit her lip as if wondering if she should say what was on her mind, then shrugged a little. "Nothing. It's just that… don't take this the wrong way, but this is the first time you've been enthusiastic about anyone from… before."

He leaned against the couch, a smug grin on his face. "Jealous, Potts?" _I hope so... Whoa, where did that come from?_

_Whatever you're thinking, Stark,_ he advised himself, _don't. Stop right now. She's not one of your... she just isn't. She deserves better than that, better than you. Show a little respect._

"It's... easier to talk about her," he said with more genuineness. "There're friends you just go out for drinks with, have fun, and say 'see you later' to, and then there are... Carol and I... we were close, but not like me and Rhodey. Do you know what I mean?"

Pepper nodded slowly. "I think so."

The kettle was whistling, and she went back to the kitchen, poured the boiling water in the pot, and closed the lid to let the tea brew. After about five minutes, Pepper returned with two cups, one of which she handed to him before sitting down on the couch, her legs tucked under her. Tony took a slow sip and tried to relax.

* * *

The tea had been a good idea; Tony was asleep by eleven-thirty, stretched out on what she had mentally dubbed as 'his side' of the bed. Pepper hoped he'd stay asleep this time for both their sakes. He had to rest somehow, and it was much more preferable he slept as normally as possible instead of collapsing from exhaustion. She knew she should do the same soon, but the unfinished work bothered her.

There was a scanner on the floor in the corner of the living room, and Pepper connected it to her laptop and sat down cross-legged next to it. As she waited for everything to boot, she pulled out the folder with the documents that would have to be dealt with first thing in the morning. _Might as well get them scanned now_, she reasoned and pulled out a page.

The first few sheets were legal documents that she briefly looked over before sending them to the scanner, but Pepper stopped on the fifth page. It was a technical design document, similar to the many weapon specs that had passed through her hands, but unlike any other she had ever seen. The top-right corner was marked "WM," and the sketch looked like the cross between a medieval and some kind of futuristic suit of armor. That alone didn't make her stop; S.I. had always developed items for soldiers' protection. What made her stare at the page was the circle in the middle of the armor's chest plate. It was labeled "Arc Reactor," and it looked like it could fit fit perfectly over the mysterious device in Tony's chest.

A million questions flooded her mind. Tony had, on at least two occasions, mentioned some sort of metal man. Pepper had simply dismissed them as random ramblings – he had been very drunk the first time – but could they have had something to do with this? The paper might have today's time-stamp, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was somehow connected to Tony. Was it also part of the reason he had abandoned his old life?

Whatever it was, she knew she couldn't ask him about it, not now, when he was still so very fragile. Maybe in a few weeks... Pepper put the blueprints into the scanner and waited as the machine buzzed and the image transferred to her laptop. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, navigating to her personal email and entering her own address. It took only seconds for the images to attach.

Then she clicked 'send'.


	19. Part 19

_**Author's Note:**_ I'm having another insane week at work. Like a Pepper-work week. I'd say a Tony-work week, but he always manages to weasel out of stuff he doesn't like, doesn't he ^_^ So sorry for the delay, folks, but as you can see, the story itself is speeding up. Once again, a big thanks to my beta and all the readers out there. Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

Pepper decided it was a good thing she never perused her childhood dream of becoming an actress. She would have been terrible at it. She had been lying to Rhodey about her house guest for almost two weeks now, and she might not have been _actively_ lying to Tony about the designs, but knowing they existed was eating away at her.

At least by Thursday, she had managed a little sleep. Unfortunately, Thursday was also when the weathermen predicted the large nor'easter that had been steadily moving down from Canada would to hit New York.

Tony fidgeted as he watched her grab breakfast, fingers drumming on his knees. He had slept too, though lightly and fitfully. Pepper had woken at least once or twice a night because of his tossing. The first few times she'd touched his arm to calm him, it had the complete opposite reaction, but Tony seemed to be getting used to it. Last night he hadn't jerked away, but she wondered how much _actual_ rest he'd gotten. At the moment he looked uneasy, like a small child not wanting a parent to leave.

"I think you should work from home today," he finally blurted out. "It's my company, so I'm the boss, and I say you can stay home."

"When you're _really_ the boss again, I'll consider it," she replied, humoring him. "In the meantime, you know it's not the kind of job I can do from here."

"But your car," he protested. "It's running on... I don't know... pixie dust!"

"I would get a new one," Pepper said mildly, "except my last two weekends have been busy."

He pushed into the couch a little, hiding, but she could tell he was still sulking. Then, as if struck with a brilliant idea, Tony sat up and grinned.

"I'll go car shopping with you," he volunteered cheerfully. "Right now, if you want."

"Right now, there's a storm rolling in, and I have to go to work," she reminded him. "Maybe this weekend, depending on how you feel."

That was early morning.

By lunchtime, most of New York was at a stand-still, and an announcement had been made across the tower that all employees should begin to make their ways home. As usual the building was almost empty by the time she had even started packing. Looking out the window on the eighty-third floor, the rest of the city already beginning to turn white from the steadily falling snow, Pepper thought that maybe she _should_ have stayed home.

"What are you still doing here?" Rhodey demanded, watching her shuffle through papers.

"Packing," she said without looking up. At that instant, the cell at her hip buzzed, and she didn't even glance at the number. "I know, I know. I'm going home," she told Tony on the end of the line before closing the phone again.

"Is that your friend?" the airman asked a little severely.

"Yes." She still hadn't looked at him. Since Monday, when she had unintentionally blurted out that her house guest was addict, Rhodey had unfailingly inquired about her situation on a daily basis. About her specifically, not the man staying with her, which made Pepper wonder just how bad things had gotten between the two of them before Tony's disappearance. Rhodey's tolerance for addicts was apparently just shy off absolute zero.

He took a deep breath. "Well, he's right; you should go home, and probably check before coming in tomorrow. I hear this one's supposed to be bad."

Only then did Pepper glance up and frowned as she noted all the equipment and various bags he was loaded with. "Where are _you_ going?"

"Right now? Back to the hotel, but I'm supposed to be in D.C. by the tomorrow to demo the armor. Remember those papers you faxed over to the west coast office a few days ago?"

"Right. Of course." She wished she could forget. Pepper shook her head, hoping the action would somehow put all her scattered thoughts back in place. "You're going to brave that storm?"

"If Amtrak is running. I'll be up here again before I fly back west, so it's not really good-bye." He smiled before his expression turned serious. "But just in case, I want to say good luck, Pepper. With everything. I honestly mean it."

"I know you do." She appreciated his openness. "Good luck to you too, Colonel."

* * *

Tony found himself once at again in the middle of the war between logic and yet another symptom of withdrawal, a crushing anxiety he couldn't control. It grew with every passing hour and each additional inch of snow that gathered on the ground. His mind went through scenarios of Pepper stranded in the middle of a snowed in street or worse, getting into a car accident, loosing control on the icy road...

_You're being paranoid_, he thought. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace again. Anxiety was bad. So very, very bad. It made him want to run to the nearest liquor store, storm or no. _And if you do that, don't bother coming back. Even if the storm or booze doesn't finally get you, you're not coming back here and doing this to her all over again._

So he stayed and fidgeted. Socrates, as acute to human behavior as any dog, was growling quietly in the corner. He must have been wondering what the crazy man was still doing in _his_ house, but the man was in enough of a mood that the bulldog didn't press the issue. _Good_, Tony thought. _One less thing to deal with._ Pepper had said she was on her way home, and snow and New York traffic aside, the tower was not that far away. All he really needed was something to work on, to do something with his hands and keep his mind occupied by the process until she returned.

Her laptop – the personal one, not S.I. issued – sat closed on the coffee table. It had been the first thing he played with when he'd first arrived and needed something to do, but that tinkering was limited to a very basic hardware upgrade. _The software could probably use some work, too_, Tony reasoned as he opened the fourteen inch machine. Of course, there was a user name and password, but with no encryption or even a security token. He breezed through the login as if it wasn't even there, and laughed a little when the wallpaper of Pepper holding the apparently new-born Socrates popped up. Tony wondered what it would cost him later if he changed it to something akin to a 'Terminator' poster.

Her email program was the next thing to open.

The first message opened automatically and was from Pepper herself. The email had no subject, just some images attached. Probably something she sent over from work, though he quickly saw that the time stamp was actually from last night. He rolled his eyes; leave it to the woman to be hard at work at nearly midnight.

Tony hadn't meant to look. Truly, he hadn't. But the previews of the images looked somewhat... familiar. He clicked the first one...

...and felt his stomach drop. Suddenly, it was as if his brain began to... leak. Everything – the past and present – meshed together into one incoherent but excruciatingly painful mess. The computer tumbled to the floor as he stood and staggered towards the door.


	20. Part 20

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry for the delay, but these next few chapters are pretty intense so I'm trying to take my time and get them right. As always a big and very special thank you to my beta who helped me out a lot with this chapter and made the lovely banner for me. You can see it on my LiveJournal. Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

The trip back to her apartment was excruciatingly slow. It took her over two and a half hours to navigate the streets. Pepper was just grateful that miraculously her heater still worked and the traffic as a whole was moving too slowly for her to get into an accident. That being said, Tony was right: the car had to go. She was not the kind of person who got nostalgic over a machine and knew this one was well past its expiration date.

_Maybe this weekend will really be a good one_, she thought as she climbed the stairs. _If the storm clears out by morning, the streets will be passable by Saturday, or Sunday for sure. And it'll be good for Tony to get out and do something he actually likes for a change._

The first hint that something was amiss met her at the top of the stairs. The door to her apartment was wide open, and Socrates sat in the hallway, looking slightly dazed and confused. Pepper ran the rest of the way down the hall and knelt by the dog.

"What happened?" she asked, as if she expected him to answer. Socrates just wined miserably.

She ushered him inside and shut the door, then took a long careful look around the apartment. Had someone broken in? Nothing seemed out of place, no overturned furniture, obvious missing electronics, or broken kitchenware.

"Tony?" She took a few steps towards the bedroom and nearly tripped over the overturned laptop. When she picked it up and and the screen lit up at the touch of her fingers across the mouse pad, Pepper suddenly knew exactly what happened as if she had been there.

"Oh, shit!" How could she have been so stupid? So careless?

Pepper let the door slam behind her as she ran out and back down the stairs, nearly tripping several times. Maybe he hadn't gotten far. She hoped to see something; tracks or Tony himself, but the snow turned everything in sight into a mass of infinite white. Even her voice, when she tried to call for him, got lost in the wind. Her mind raced, coming up with one terrible image after another. Considering how she had found him on more than a few occasions in the past when he was on the streets, none of the images coming to mind were too unlikely.

She had promised, she knew. Tony had sworn he would disappear if she ever told a soul that he was still alive. _But he already ran_, she reasoned as she stepped back inside the building and pulled out her cell. Maybe he'd forgive her some day or maybe he wouldn't, but Pepper knew only one thing for certain: if she didn't find him soon, if he was out there in the storm all night, by morning, it wouldn't matter.

Tony Stark would _really_ be dead.

Rhodey picked up by the third ring with, "Pepper? What's wrong?"

"He's gone," she blurted out. "I came back and he wasn't there. He saw the armor and I think it set him off…"

"Wait, wait, slow down. Is this about your friend?"

"Yes! He saw the scans of the armor designs I sent to myself. I can't believe I was so stupid, but now he saw them and he's out there in this blizzard. And…"

"Why would the armor set him off?" If the airman was wondering why she had sent potentially classified information to herself, he didn't say anything.

"Because it's Tony!" She didn't have the time to listen for a reaction. "Because he's in trouble. I think he's drinking again, but he hasn't for almost two weeks now. He's been insufferable and he takes everything apart and he has no concept of privacy, but he hasn't been drinking but now he probably is. Rhodey, please! If we don't find him soon…"

"I don't believe you." His voice was so quiet that she almost hadn't heard him. It never even occurred to Pepper that he might not believe her.

"It _is_ him," she insisted, forcing herself to focus at least long enough to convince Rhodey she truly needed his help. "He's been on the streets for over three years, and…"

"You're wrong," he interrupted, his voice numb. "Tony's dead, and this isn't funny."

"I'm not making it up! No one ever found his body, did they?" Pepper countered, surprised she still had enough coherent thought to come up with that. "He just disappeared."

"Right." Rhodey snorted, sounding bitter. "And of all the homeless people in New York, you just happened to run into the long-lost Tony Stark."

"I did!" She raked her brain for anything that would identify him. "He has that thing in his chest… the arc reactor."

Pepper hoped she remembered the name correctly, since she only had the label on the armor design to go on. It was a gamble. She wasn't even completely sure that it was really the same as Tony's implant. _Rhodey would know_, she reasoned. _He was there when Tony was rescued. He has to know what I'm talking about, has to see that it's really him._

There was a long pause on the other end. Pepper held her breath, and when she finally heard an exhale, it took her a second to realize had it come from Rhodey.

"I'll be right there."

She didn't go back into the apartment to wait. Pepper spent a few minutes pacing in the hallway, then made another attempt at searching outside. Between the storm and the traffic, it could be hours before Rhodey arrived, and every second counted. She was still holding out hope that Tony was somewhere just around the corner rather than passed out somewhere in an alley. How far could he possibly get on foot in this weather, anyway? How long could he have been out? Her brain furiously tried to do the math. He'd called just before she left, so he must have seen the email at some point between the call and the two and a half hours it took her to get home. She hoped it was just before she finally arrived home, but there was no way to know.

By the time Rhodey pulled up to the stoop of her apartment building, she felt like she might breake down again. She'd held it together long enough to convince him of the urgency, but now, after over an hour of searching on her own with the bottoms of her pants and shoes soaked from snow, she could feel the facade of strength crumbling. Pepper was freezing and frantic and afraid that she might shatter at any moment.

The lieutenant colonel didn't bother to park the car, simply rolled down the window.

"Get in."

His voice was as icy as the weather, and Pepper did as she was told, momentarily shocked out of her panic. She went through the motions of stumbling through the snow, opening the door, sitting down, and fastening her seatbelt. She stared squarely at the floor, unable to meet his hard gaze for a long time. When she finally looked up, the anger and hurt in his usually soft brown eyes made Pepper's stomach tighten.

"Don't you dare try to apologize," he warned her. "Don't... I really, _really_ don't want to hear it. Just tell me where you think he'd be. Where should I go?"

"I don't know," Pepper shook her head. "I checked a few close blocks. Umm... drive and look around. Look for..." The words caught in her throat. "The nearest liquor stores."

* * *

Supposedly there should have been a lot of it, but Tony Stark no longer felt pain.

If there had been someone to ask, he would have admitted that he'd worked hard over the last few years to feel nothing, so the loss of physical sensation now seemed like the next logical and final step in the process.

He knew he was most likely dying, but then again, it wouldn't have been the first time. He'd almost died in Afghanistan and had been dying by pieces for years on the streets. It had been a long time since death had scared Tony.

_That's not true, is it?_ a long dormant, softer voice asked. _Your own death might not scare you, but what about others? What about all the people who've counted on you over the years? What about Rhodey and Danvers? What about your parents? What would they think if they could see you now?_

_They're dead, _he argued. _They're beyond caring, and the only other person who might have... is part of the reason I'm here._

_What about _her_?_

He had no answer to that, mostly because whatever remaining sensations he had were all tied to her. With all she had done for him in only a few weeks, he'd regain something he'd lost years ago: hope. They said hope was stronger than all the evils in the world combined, but all Tony could feel was the pain of it being torn away with yet another betrayal.

_You don't know that_, the soft voice urged. _You don't know..._

He tried to silence it with another gulp from the nearly empty bottle at his side, but the persistent whisper kept coming.

_It's easy to give up, easy to die_, it continued. _Harder to live and hope. And you still do, don't you? Despite everything, you still hope she'll come for you. Just magically appear out of the snow just like five weeks ago._

_Even if I did, it doesn't matter. Miracles don't happen twice._


	21. Part 21

_**Author's Note:**_ Okay! Special bonus for you guys this week. Not only is the update longer than usual but there's a special pre-Heroes & Demons one-shot closely attached to this chapter. It's called "May 24th" and it can be read before or after the chapter. Extra points for those who figure out why. ^_^ Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

Rhodey thought there would never be enough words to describe how he felt when he laid eyes on his best friend after he had escaped from captivity. Tony was alive. Bruised, bloody, dehydrated, and filthy, but alive. Relief didn't even to come close to summing up his emotions.

But no matter how similar it was to now – just replace sand with snow – that was different.

He'd had hope then.

No matter how foolish his commanders and most everyone else had thought he was being, Rhodey had had genuine hope that he would see his friend again, and, at first, it was the same the second time the billionaire had disappeared. In the beginning, Rhodey was sure Tony had simply overstayed his time in New York after the in-person meeting with the board. He'd even thought it was a good thing. After the months of watching his friend drift in an aimless PTSD and alcohol induced haze, going out was the first sign of normalcy for Tony. Rhodey could not have even begun to imagine that he might have found him in the middle of the Afghan desert, only to loose him in America.

He would have liked to think of himself as an optimist, but over three years was enough for anyone to lose hope. Three years of watching the military and Stark Industries in turmoil. Three so-called anniversaries of not even having time to properly morn for fear that another would follow in his footsteps. It all chipped away at Rhodey, to the point where acceptance had become not just a reasonable conclusion; it was the only way to keep his sanity.

Now, with no hope to fuel anticipation, Rhodey was left with nearly nothing but anger. Only that, too, was a woeful understatement. He was pissed off. Pissed off with Tony for letting him believe he was dead, with Pepper for not telling him the truth after all the times she'd listened to him talk about the man. Most of all, Rhodey was pissed with himself for ever believing his friend was dead in the first place.

But when he finally saw him, passed out against the side of a rundown building, half hidden by snow and shadows, for a moment all the fury in the world was gone, completely replaced by overwhelming relief. Pepper was already moving out of the car before Rhodey fully stopped it mid-empty streets with nothing but the emergency lights and parking break. She knelt at his right, frantically feeling for a pulse.

"He's alive," Pepper declared. "Just barely, but..."

Rhodey was also moving, throwing one of Tony's arms around his shoulder and haulling him up. "Open the back door."

When his friend was safely inside, the airman took one long look at him, feeling an odd sort of mix of amazement and disgust at all the terrible changes that the other man had gone through over the years. Finally tearing his eyes away from him, Rhodey started the car again.

"We need to get him to a hospital," he said decisively, pulling out onto the main road. The bulk of the storm had passed, and traffic was almost non-existent in the middle of the night, but the roads were still bad enough that he had to be extremely careful.

Pepper fidgeted. "They're going to figure out who he is. He didn't want..."

"And it's always about what _he_ wants?" Rhodey gave her a harsh look. "How about what his friends want? Like for him to actually survive this latest stupidity."

There was a sharp intake of breath, as if Pepper had been in a haze all this time and was only now coming out of it. He felt something akin to that himself.

"I... I'm sorry," she said apologetically, her face pained. "I'm just... I... I'm sorry. You're right. Of course he should be in a hospital."

He said nothing, focusing all his attention on driving and breathing. The funny thing was, he understood perfectly well. Rhodey may not have had any idea how long they had known each other – he suspected it wasn't long – but he knew Tony, knew how the man could getter under one's skin and convince you that the sky was red and the moon was made of cheese. Pepper was clearly an intelligent and reasonable person, but Tony had obviously done a number on her already. Rhodey shook his head. He needed to get them to New York Presbyterian in one piece, or the whole ordeal would have been one enormously ironic and bitter joke.

He told Pepper to call ahead, so by the time they arrived at the emergency entrance, there were doctors waiting with a stretcher and questions. Rhodey took the lead, walking briskly by the stretcher through the automatic doors and answering questions about Tony's addiction and medical history as far as he could remember it. When the doctors tore open the coat and stared at the arc reactor with a mixture of wonder and horror, he had to think fast.

"Pace maker," he said simply. "It has nothing to do with this. Work around it, and don't touch it. You might end up killing instead of saving him."

The one who seemed to be in charge looked like he wanted to tell the colonel to shove it and let them do their jobs, but instead he nodded. "We need a name for the chart. I.D. if you have it."

"Howard." Pepper stepped in, only a few paces behind them. "His name is Howard... Potts."

The man in the white coat gave her a quizzical look but jotted it down anyway. "We're going to take him in to get checked out. You can both sit in the waiting area if you like, but you can't go in until he's stable."

"When will that be?" Rhodey demanded.

"We won't know that until we have a look at him." The doctor sounded like he was explaining an extremely trivial fact to a child. "Wait here."

They wheeled him away, and Rhodey had to fight the urge to run after them and insist on staying. By the look of her, Pepper felt the same. She was nervous, fidgeting and biting her lip every few minutes. He was still angry, but it was waning. The logical part of his mind that had been forced to think clearly enough to answer the doctors' questions was beginning to reassert control. She was not malicious and had meant well, and she looked as afraid for Tony as he was, though he was trying to hide it.

Pacing and looking at the clock every few minutes didn't help matters. Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity, but finally the doctor returned, a dark look on his face. Rhodey immediately whirled to face him, and Pepper, who had sat down in a waiting room chair, shot to her feet.

"We're still working on him," the doctor glanced between them and rattled off a list of ailments that sent chills down Rhodey's spine. "The good news is he's not dead. If he wakes up – and that's a big 'if', considering what your friend did to himself – I'd say he won't be up for visitors for a several hours. Mid-morning at the earliest."

"What... what are his chances?" Pepper clearly wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer but had to ask regardless.

"Honestly? With this level of damage, I wouldn't guess above fifty percent."

"Can you give us a minute?" Rhodey took Pepper's elbow and guided her to the far corner, well out of earshot. "You need to go home," he said firmly. "Go home, dry off, and if you still have anything on the armor in your house, delete or shred them. You have no idea what you walked in on. There's serious damage control to be done, and the less you have, the better."

"It can wait!" she argued. "He needs..."

"You can't do anything here." She looked struck, and he had to amend. "I'll explain things later, but trust me, it's for his safety and yours. You've got to get rid of those records."

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. "I don't want to leave him."

"Then come back when everything's... cleaned up." Despite his anger, Rhodey was touched. "I'm going to stay here and make a call." Her head shot up instantly at that, and Rhodey held up a hand. "I know he doesn't want anyone to know. You might have promised to stay quiet, but I didn't. He can blame me, if he wants to."

To his surprise, she didn't argue. "You're calling Captain Danvers, aren't you?"

"Yes." Rhodey was both impressed and slightly surprised by her perceptiveness. "Sooner or later, this is going to come out. The world is too small for... for him to disappear, and she deserves to hear it from me rather than see him on the eleven o'clock news."

Pepper nodded. "I'll be back soon." She started for the door, then paused and turned. "Colonel... Rhodey... I'm sorry."

He wanted to say that it was okay, but it really wasn't, and he couldn't lie. "Go home, Pepper," he repeated. "Clear the files and come back. He's probably going to want to see you."

When she was gone, he stalked to the corner of the waiting room and sank down. It was mostly empty, but still he looked around carefully before flipping open his phone and dialing. It took five rings before an annoyed sleepy voice answered.

"Do you know what time it is?" Carol demanded. "Two in the fucking morning!"

The three hour time difference had not, in fact, crossed Rhodey's mind when he'd dialed. He hadn't looked at a watch in hours and had no real feeling for the time that had passed during their search beyond the fact that it was completely dark outside and had been for a while. The search took hours, followed by another for the drive to the hospital and almost as long for him to finish dealing with the doctors and convince Pepper to go home.

He'd called her the second he could, and damn, it was good to hear her voice.

"Carol," he breathed. Now that she was on the line, he had no idea how to get the words out so he spoke as plainly as he could. "It's Tony. He's here. He's alive."

"What?"

For an instant, Rhodey had a clear image of her half-awake but shocked face and messy golden hair as she pushed herself up in bed. Her free hand was tugging, holding the sheets close to her chest. He shook off the image, insanely inappropriate for the moment or any other, really.

"You heard me." The forced bluntness helped. "Tony's alive."

She made a noise that was a clear sound of disgust. "Are you fucking shitting me, Rhodes?" He could practically _hear_ the scowl on her face. "Are you fucking shitting me!"

"No." He was surprised at how calm he sounded. "I'm with him now. We're at the hospital."

"Hospital?" He heard shifting as she rose. "What did the idiot do to himself?"

"Alcohol poisoning," Rhodey replied bluntly. "Exposure, cirrhosis, heart damage, frost bite, and God knows what else. Doctors said something like... fifty-fifty."

"What the hell do they know," she grumbled. "Can you put him on?"

"Not right now. Doctor's said he might wake up in the later part of the morning, but probably not sooner." _Even if he was awake, __I'm mad, but not enough to hand him over to you._ He smiled but tried not to let her hear it.

"Call me as soon as he does, then. If I don't pick up, I'm already in the air."

That caught his attention. "You're _not_ flying up here."

"Rhodes…"

"You're not." He switched to the authoritative commander voice. "Even if you could somehow get a flight out here considering the storm…"

"I'll hijack an F-22 Raptor if I have to."

"You won't. Even if you could, you have a different job, remember? That's still on the table, Carol. It's even more important now that Tony's back."

There was a sharp and clearly angry intake of breath, followed by a harsh, "Yes, sir."

Rhodey winced. "Don't do that."

"Yes, _sir_. Whatever you say, _sir_."

She might as well have been saying 'fuck you'. Actually, Rhodey had learned fairly quickly that that was _exactly_ what she was saying. He sighed. "I know you want to see him," _and believe me, I want you here_, "and you will, but you know how important this is."

"Fine," she bit out. "But I _am_ sending someone your way. A doctor who actually knows what he's doing. I don't know who I'd trust in that place, and this guy knows how to be discrete."

He was about to tell her that it was fine, that this was one of the best hospitals in New York, but there was no point. Rhodey figured it was better to let her feel like she was contributing instead of arguing.

"Thank you," he said.

There was a long pause, then her tone turned milder. "Are _you_ okay, Jim?"

"Me?" Rhodey could barely begin to wrap his mind around the question. "I... I don't know."

"Well, take care of yourself. I mean it."

Despite himself, he smiled. "Yes, ma'am." He was about to hang up before a final thought came to him. "Carol?"

"Yeah?"

"No more May 24th."

"No more May 24th," she agreed without protest.


	22. Part 22

_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you again for my wonderful beta for giving me the much needed kick in the butt every now and again. The doctor introduced here is once again not an OC but another Marvel character who was oh so much fun to write ^_^ Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

Pepper had not given herself the luxury of crying this time, no matter how much she wanted to. She'd done exactly as Rhodey had instructed: went back to her apartment, deleted the email and scans on her hard drive, changed into dry clothes, and fed Socrates. The dog looked at her and whined.

"I know," Pepper said sympathetically, scratching him behind an ear. "I miss him too, but he'll be okay."

The bulldog didn't look too convinced, and she sighed. _You're a terrible liar_, she reminded herself._ Even the dog doesn't buy it_. She sat on the couch for a moment, one hand resting on the puppy's warm coat, and looked around. It occurred to her that this was the first time her home had been quiet in two weeks.

Pepper found the silence unbearable.

She had no idea what was so important about the armor, or why Rhodey felt the need to be so secretive about it, but at the moment, she really didn't care. She had no doubt it was important to everything Tony had been and, hopefully, would be again, but Pepper could only think about the man who had been with her for the last two weeks. Try as she might, she couldn't see the billionaire inventor so many would recognize; all she could think about was the man she'd met just over a month ago.

Most of the storm clouds had cleared, but some lingered as she drove back to the hospital, a little more collected but exhausted, though that was nothing new and hadn't been for a while. Even if Stark Tower was open in the morning, there was no way she would be going in. It was Friday, so Pepper figured if she called in sick, she would have the whole weekend to begin to piece things together. After that, she had no idea what would happen with her job. It was hard to imagine moving forward like nothing had happened. The juggling act that she had miraculously managed to maintain thus far was at last falling part.

The lightning bolt that came hurling out of nowhere and nearly simultaneous clap of thunder caught her by surprise, so much so that Pepper swerved on the slush covered road. Missing the sidewalk by an inch, she clutched the wheel in a death-grip and somehow managed to bring the car to a stop without hitting anything. Her heart pounded as she waited for the next round.

It never came.

_You're loosing it_, Pepper thought, easing off the breaks. _Completely and utterly loosing it._

It hadn't occurred to her to notice that the wayward bolt had struck a rod on the hospital's rooftop.

Rhodey was nowhere in sight when she entered. The waiting room still looked as deserted as before, save for a man standing by the front desk, leaning heavily against the ledge. He had short, slightly spiky blond hair, and could not have been more than in his late twenties. Pepper might not have even noticed him except for the striking fact that he was wearing shorts and a light hoodie over a t-shirt.

"If I can just see your I.D.," the nurse was saying.

"Sure thing." He pulled out his wallet and fished out a card which he handed to the woman. "Captain Danvers called ahead for me, right?"

_Captain Danvers?_ Now Pepper was listening very carefully.

"Yes, we were told to expect you," she handed him back the card. "You're all set, Doctor. This hospital extend you full privileges for the rest of your stay. Do you need anything?"

"I might need a smock later, being a little out of uniform and all," he said sheepishly. "But for now, if you can tell me where my patient is, I'd be much obliged."

"Room 207," the nurse blushed, clearly beyond charmed. "Second floor."

"Thank you very much," he smiled pleasantly and reached for something at his side.

That was when Pepper noticed the wooden stick – she hesitate to call it a cane with its rough, unworked surface – that rested against the side of the station. He picked it up, leaning heavily on it with favor to his right leg. When the man began to move to the elevator, she waited a few beats, then jogged to catch up with him at the doors.

"Excuse me." Pepper wasn't sure if she should ask directly. "I'm sorry. I just happen to overhear. You said Captain Danvers sent you? Carol?"

The man gave her a puzzled look, most likely wondering how a stranger knew the former airman's name. "Yes..."

"So you're here for Tony?" she ventured a guess.

He cocked his head to the side slightly. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"Pepper Potts. I'm a friend of..."

"That's right!" His face brightened, and he extended his free hand cheerfully. "She told me I'd probably be talking to Colonel Rhodes, but she mentioned you, too. I'm Doctor Donald Blake. Nice to meet you, Miss Potts."

"Pepper, please." She shook his hand. The elevator door opened, and they stepped inside. "You're local? From a different hospital?"

"Well, originally," Blake explained. "I got my medical degree in New York, but I live in Oklahoma now. Just flew in when I got the call."

"You flew all the way from the south-west?" Pepper stared at him. "How...?"

"First class's always open," he grinned. "Especially when you have friends in high places pulling strings. Plus I didn't exactly get the chance to pack."

Pepper could have sworn it wasn't physically possible to make it from Oklahoma to New York in the two hours it had taken her to go from the hospital to her apartment and back again, but she was too tired to think about it. The ride was over by then, and Tony's room was only a few steps down the hall.

She'd seen him in bad shape so many times in the short period of time since they'd met that Pepper honestly didn't think it would phase her now. But when the door opened on the sight of Tony Stark laying in the hospital bed with tubes and wires connected to him, she felt her heart drop just a little. Rhodey was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on his friend. Pepper wished she knew what he was thinking, but the airman's expression was completely unreadable. She tentatively took a seat and scooted the chair closer to the bed.

"How is he?" She looked up at Rhodey. "Any change?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "They stabilized him. Other than that? No idea." He turned to the doctor, silently asking who he was.

"You must be Colonel Rhodes." The smaller man stepped forward a bit awkwardly. "I'm Doctor Blake. Captain Danvers called me."

Rhodey raised a single brow. "That was fast."

If he was wondering about the man's age or anything else, he said nothing about it. He'd never been anything but warm and polite, but Rhodey was obviously in no mood for pleasantry. Blake didn't look too surprised or hurt, though, cleared his throat and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed, examining it carefully.

"Tell me about him," Blake prompted. "I'm sure I can't go by the tabloids."

"You heard about Afghanistan?" Rhodey asked, and the doctor nodded. "He's had severe PTSD since then, a little under four years. He's been self-medicating with alcohol but he didn't exactly abstain from it before, either."

"A functioning alcoholic is still an alcoholic. Is there a family history?" the doctor guessed.

"His father," Rhodey confirmed. "But not this bad."

That was news to Pepper. Blake nodded thoughtfully. "There's no single cause, but that doesn't help. I see they got him started on the banana bag: thiamine, folic acid..."

"He's been sober for almost two weeks," Pepper put in. The men turned to look at her. "The withdrawal... it was really bad at first, but I thought... I thought he seemed... better."

"I'm sure he was," the younger man said sympathetically. "But now he's all but starting from scratch. It'll be less painful this time. I'll keep a close eye on him and administer all the right medication. He's in good hands, Miss Potts. Promise."

She relaxed a little. "That being said," he continued. "Detox is the tip of the ice burg. It's not going to do a bit of good if he goes from this hospital to straight the liquor store. You're both going to have to figure out what to say to him and how to act when he wakes up." He pointed to the arc reactor. "Now I need someone to explain to me what that is."

"It's a miniaturized arc reactor," Rhodey said. "There's shrapnel in his chest cavity from when the convoy was hit. That thing emits a magnetic field that keeps it in place."

The doctor blinked in open astonishment. "Don't tell me. Let me guess: he built it himself."

"While in captivity," the airman confirmed.

"Whoa. Okay, engineering's not my specialty, so I'm just going to assume he knew what he was doing and not touch the thing." He glanced at the chart again. "Well, it looks like the medication they got him on is doing its job. I'll adjust the dosage slightly when he wakes up, but there's not much to be done right now."

* * *

Rhodey left Pepper sitting by Tony's bedside and stepped into the hallway with the doctor. A part of him was wondering where Carol had found this guy who looked barely out of medical school, but if she trusted him, it was more than enough for Rhodey. Besides, he didn't want to think too much if he didn't have to. The adrenaline rush that had been sustaining him since the phone call that put everything he thought he knew for the past few years on its head was gone, leaving him exhausted.

"There's nothing for me to do right now," Blake was saying when Rhodey finally tuned in. "I'll check back every hour, but in the meantime I'd like to go make rounds, see if I can be useful anywhere else around here."

"Yeah, sure," Rhodey said absently. "Thanks in advance, Doc. I know we're all coming off as a bit shell-shocked, but seriously, thanks for all the help and for... keeping everything quiet."

"Of course. We _are_ all on the same side, Colonel Rhodes." The last part of his comment sounded a bit vague, but he smiled reassuringly. "You look like you could use some sleep."

He felt it, too, but Rhodey simply sighed and wiped a hand over his face. "I need to make a few calls. I was supposed to be in D.C. for a field test, and now I have to explain to my superiors why I'm not there. Could probably use the storm as an excuse for today, but after that..."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Something in Blake's eyes sparkled with barely hidden amusement. "I hear the weather is about to take a turn for the worse again. In fact, I don't see this storm breaking till... at least Monday."

Thus solidifying Rhodey's opinion that no matter how good of a doctor he was, the man was definitely one of the strangest people he'd ever met, Blake made his way down the hall and left him standing outside his friend's hospital room. Rhody remained there for a few more long moments before slowly and quietly opening the door again.

Pepper must not have heard him enter, and he stood at the threshold, unwilling to interrupt the calmness in the room. She was holding Tony's right hand in both of hers and speaking to him softly. It was rude to eavesdrop, but he had been feeling uneasy about her since he discovered the truth. And if he was honest, Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes would have admitted that deep down he was jealous that a stranger had been the one to find Tony Stark, not him.

"You'll be okay." Her voice was so quiet that Rhodey barely heard her. "You'll get better, get your old life back. It's going to be hard, and I know you'll probably be mad at first, but how can you go wrong with friends like that? You're so lucky to have them. I hope you know that."

_He better know that_, Rhodey thought grimly.

"Your friends are moving worlds for you, Tony," she said after another long stretch of silence. "I guess I should leave you alone now, shouldn't I? What else can I do?"


	23. Part 23

_**Author's Note:**_ Ach, sorry for the long wait, but my work has just been absolutely insane _ I worked through most of one weekend and part of another. The good news is that the next update will include another side fic, so you'll get a little more next time. For now, enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

Consciousness came to Tony in pieces. He was surprised to find that he was, in fact, not dead. That cold numbness he last remembered had been traded for warm dryness. Turning his head slightly to the side, he could see that snow was still falling outside the window. Taking in the whiteness of the dimly lit hospital room, his brain was slowly but surely clearing and going into full blown panic mode.

_Don't freak out_, he kept telling himself. _Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. If you can just get up and find your clothes..._

But when he turned to the side, Tony found Pepper asleep in the visitor's chair, curled up into what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position, and an indescribable wave of calm washed over him. The pounding pulse of his rapid heartbeat slowed, and he relaxed a little. For a long time, Tony was content to just lay back and watch her sleep.

He must have drifted off again at some point, because the next time he opened his eyes, the room was brighter. Pepper's chair was empty, but before the anxiety could set in, another face appeared directly above him. A pleasant face with friendly blue eyes belonging to a not very tall man in a white coat. Tony could only guess he was a doctor.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark," the man smiled. "How are you feeling? Are you sore?"

His head was still fuzzy, and Tony blinked. "Am I Thor?"

The corner of the man's mouth twitched as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. "No, I'm pretty sure you're not."

Tony shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. He'd called him 'Stark'. Prior to two weeks ago, no one had called him that for three and a half years. The urge to push the man aside, bolt out of bed, and run for his life was squelched only by his fatigue and remaining disorientation.

"Who are you, again?"

"Oh, sorry," his visitor looked sheepish. "I've been introducing myself so often; it figures I'd forget when it actually mattered. I'm Dr. Donald Blake. Your friend Captain Danvers asked me to look in on you."

_Carol knows?_ "Terrific," Tony groaned.

"Can you sit up a little more?" The doctor pushed the button that raised half of the bed slightly and held up a diagnostic penlight. "I'd like to run a few quick checks."

He was not up to arguing and let Blake focus the light on one eye, then the other. "Want me to say 'ahhh', Doc?"

"Well, your sense of humor is still intact," the doctor grinned. "That's a good sign."

"Is this where you follow up with 'But if you ever take another drink again you'll die'?" Tony raised a brow.

Blake pressed his lips into a thin line, retracted the pen, and looked at him seriously. "I don't have to. There are those who say you're the smartest man on the planet, so you can draw your own conclusions. Scare tactics and dramatics aren't my style." He paused, as if considering the last statement, then nodded to himself. "Not _my_ style," he repeated and focused on Tony again.

For his part, Tony neither noticed nor cared to spend any time trying to understand the strange doctor. He was starting to feel tired again. His mouth was dry, head still pounding, and the urge to run was an ever-present itch. Tony mentally measured the distance from the bed to the door. It wasn't too far, and Blake was not a big man. He could easily push him aside, and... It was the first time Tony noticed the rough cane the doctor was using for support.

_No_.

No matter how badly he wanted to run, he was not about to stoop to shoving a crippled man. Tony pushed the urge away and looked around the room again instead.

"Where's Pepper?" It was ludicrous, but he honestly half expected her to appear just because he wished it.

"I sent her down to the cafeteria for some coffee and lunch," Blake replied. "Otherwise, she was firmly set on not going anywhere until you woke up."

Hearing that made Tony inexplicably happy, even if he felt like shit for it. It felt good to know that she cared. Cared enough to go looking for him in the middle of a storm and stay with him afterward, even if he had no memory on how exactly any of that happened.

"Colonel Rhodes was here, too," the doctor added, as if reading his mind.

"'Was'?" Tony literally had to will himself not to panic again or choke on his words. He suspected his best friend had been dragged into this but somehow also couldn't bring himself to be angry with Pepper for bringing him in. Exhaustion had that effect; he had to be very picky on what he spent his anger on. And he didn't want to be angry anymore, especially not with her.

"I think he said something about heading back to the Tower." Blake tried to recall. "Something about... cleanup? I honestly didn't ask for details."

"He doesn't want to see me." Tony didn't bother to hide the sadness in his voice.

"That's not true. He saved your life. They both did." The doctor made a few notes in the chart and replaced it at the foot of his bed. "It's up to you what you do with that."

He left him with those words, and Tony let his head fall back. He wanted badly to wait for Pepper, but his lids felt too heavy, and he felt himself sinking back into slumber. A sense of time was still something that he had a hard time grasping, and a touch on his arm woke him again though he had no idea how much time had passed. He reached for it and felt a smaller hand fall into his own, then squeeze gently.

"Hi," he breathed, even before his eyes opened.

"Hi." Her voice... He had to remember to take another breath and finally turned to face her.

She looked worn, and he hated himself that she had clearly gone through hell on his account, but also couldn't help but feel unbelievably grateful and happy – though that was not strong enough of a word – that she was still there. Pepper returned the comforting squeeze.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay."

His voice was bland, but he really did feel better than the first time he woke up. Her presence was the best antiseptic, infinitely better than whatever they had mixed into his drip. Still he couldn't meet her gaze. Tony turned away again, and the silence stretched between them.

"It's all going to come crashing down now, isn't it?" he spoke at last, though at the wall.

Pepper said nothing, and Tony himself had only a very vague idea of what he meant. All he knew was that the two... no, five weeks he'd spent with her were the best of his life since before the death of his parents. Withdrawal had been hell, but when the worst of it passed, things had leveled out, if only for a few days. They'd bickered and talked and laughed, and Tony thought that this... this is what life was supposed to be like.

_It was all worth it_, he thought. _The withdrawal, the nightmares, everything... It was all worth just a few normal days with her._

"I don't know what's going to happen," she said finally. "We haven't told the staff here anything. Dr. Blake knows, but he…"

"I know," Tony interrupted her. "Carol sent him." Pepper nodded. If she was surprised that he knew, her face didn't show it. He took a breath and went further. "And Rhodey?"

"I called him," she answered without hesitation. "I'm sorry, but there was no other way. I wouldn't have found you without his help, and he won't…"

"It's okay." She looked like she was about to launch into a long apology, and Tony really didn't want to hear it, especially because there was no need. Pepper smiled weakly.

"This… isn't going any further. You know they're not going to say anything." But she sounded terribly like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Doesn't matter." He shook his head and touched the arc reactor with his free hand. "Secrets like this don't stay secrets for long. Sooner or later, it's all going to come crashing down. Looks like it's going to be sooner."

* * *

Rhodey always knew he was no Tony Stark when it came to machinery but wasn't too shabby, either. It wouldn't have been an issue if he was dealing with any other company, but Stark Industries still ran the same security Tony had set up years ago. Any changes made afterward would have been a downgrade. That meant Rhodey had to physically be at Stark Tower for the work he needed to do.

Luckily, the combination of the storm and the fact that it was Friday meant that most of the building was empty. He had no trouble and wasn't asked any questions by the security guards as he made his way through the hallways and took a seat at Pepper's desk. It didn't matter much which computer he was using; the internal network was still heavily fire-walled but at least he didn't have to hack into it from an outside I.P. address. And in case anyone asked, he could always say he was doing a favor for Pepper and retrieving something she needed for work.

The nice thing about the weapons industry was that the actual number of shipping records was limited. It didn't take long to throw everything from the last decade onto a USB stick. _And since I'm here anyway_, Rhodey thought, his hands flying over the keyboard. Searching for everything related to the development of the armor was harder that simply dumping all the shipping records, but he believed it crucial. Rhodey had never really believed that the armor was developed by the Stark Industries R & D department, largely because every time he spoke to them, the scientists there made it sound like they were reverse-engineering rather than inventing something new.

Then there was the arc reactor…

Rhodey knew that aside from Tony, he was only one of three people in the world who knew about the implant, and somehow he didn't think Pepper was responsible for the suit. If there was anything that had become crystal clear soon after Tony's disappearance years ago it was that Obediah Stane was a very smart, very powerful, and very dangerous man. Rhodey hadn't quite connected all the dots yet, but the arrow they were starting to form pointed squarely at him.

_When Tony gets his act together,_ the lieutenant colonel thought as he began to close windows and cleanup his trail. If _he gets his act together, something'll have to be done about Stane. Something'll have to be done about him anyway..._

He was so deep in thought as he walked to his car, which was safely parked in the underground garage and thus safe from the still-falling snow, that Rhodey took no notice of the multiple pairs of footsteps some distance behind him. Nor did he see the lamplight bounce of the polished metal of the barrels.


	24. Part 24

_**Author's Note:**_ Before you read this chapter, I strongly encurage you to go and read the side-fic "Promises Broken" and its author's note. It explains how Carol and Tony met and a lot of other things about their friendship. This is pretty much their reunion chapter, so a lot of it might not make sense if you don't read that one first. Enjoy and please read and review!

* * *

It was still snowing by early Saturday afternoon, and when Rhodey gave Blake a sidelong look upon entering the hospital, the doctor just shrugged innocently and continued on with his rounds. He remained primarily for Tony, but within just over twenty-four hours, the man had all but completely integrated himself into the rest of the staff.

"You need to go see your friend," he told Rhodey before heading off. "He's better, but he could use every friendly face he can get."

"I'm not sure my face would be that friendly," the lieutenant colonel replied. "Need some more time to cool off." _Like another three and a half years..._

"He asked about you," Blake commented pointedly. "Try not to take too long."

The doctor was right, of course. It had been almost a day and a half since they found Tony. A day since he'd woken, but Rhodey still couldn't bring himself to walk through the door. What did one say to his best friend – could he even still call the man that? – after years of thinking him dead? His instinct was to storm in and beat the snot out of him, which wouldn't necessarily have been anything new. Like most men, they had come to blows in the past only to wipe up the blood and move on almost as soon as the fight was over, but somehow he suspected getting into a fist fight wouldn't help in this case.

He was still thinking about it, still sitting in the chair across the small waiting room, elbows resting on his thighs, face buried in his hands, when the ping of the elevator broke through the clamor of hospital sounds. At first he didn't think anything of it, but a moment later the footsteps arriving from that direction stopped right in front of him.

"You look like hell, solider."

Rhodey tried not to wince as he looked up at a smiling Carol Danvers who was standing, hands on hips, less than foot away.

"I should court martial your ass," he replied warily, but she only laughed.

"Not part of your command anymore, so I hope that's code for something more fun." Her eyes sparkled. "And before you say anything else, I got things covered." She held up a USB stick between two fingers. "Everything you asked for. I just need your copy to run a comparison, and I can do that anywhere. Thought you'd prefer me here rather than in California."

Rhodey was too tired to argue. "How'd you get here? I thought the airports were still closed."

"Not in Harrisburg. I drove the rest of the way." She cocked her head to the side. "How are you holding up?"

"Kinda… kinda shitty." He shrugged but looked up at her with a small smile. "But it's good to see you, Carol."

"Yeah?" The response seemed to please her. She glanced around before her eyes fell on the room directly opposite of where Rhodey was sitting. "Is he in there?"

The lieutenant colonel nodded.

"Did you see him yet?"

He shook his head.

"Want me to go yell at him?"

"Yes," Rhodey said with complete seriousness and barely had time to catch her hand before she spun on her heel to do just that. "I'm kidding. I don't think he can… handle you right now."

"Most men can't, but in this case I don't exactly care." She scowled.

"I know," Rhodey squeezed her hand. "Do you think you can talk to him without yelling?"

"I can try." She shrugged. "But no promises."

"Fair enough." He released her hand and rose. "In that case I think I'll go get some coffee. Not so sure I want to be here when you let him have it."

* * *

Pepper had gone home to run some errands but promised to be back in a few hours, so Tony tried to sleep the time away. He was still tired and anxious and almost every other symptom that came with withdrawal, but whether it was the medication or the fact that he'd been clean for almost two weeks prior or both, Tony felt a little better than he'd expected.

He was only drifting so when the door creaked open and clicked closed, he blinked awake. Instead of seeing Pepper as he'd hoped and expected, Tony came face to face with what he guessed was the beginning of a long series of people from his past lining up to take a shot at him. From her position near the foot of his bed, Carol Danvers certainly looked like she was of a mind to do exactly that, arms crossed defensively under her chest.

"Hey, Ms. Marvel."

His voice was rough, but he hoped that the old nickname might thaw the icy look on her face. It might have in the past but not this time. She didn't reply. For a while her eyes focused on him before they began to roam around the hospital room as if searching for something.

"What?" he wondered.

"I'm looking for a sharp object to stab you with," she replied nonchalantly. "I'd smother you with the pillow, but I wouldn't get quite the same satisfaction out of it."

Tony winced. "You're in a blood thirsty mood."

"Oh, I am. Jim said I shouldn't yell at you. He said nothing about inflicting large amounts of bodily harm. I think I'll start with your head since you obviously haven't used it in years."

"Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel," he said dryly.

"I hate you."

"That makes two of us." She glared. "What do you want me to say, Carol? That I'm sorry? I am. Does it make you feel better? No, because there's nothing that I can say or do to fix things."

"What I want," she said sharply, her voice escalating, "is for you to acknowledge how fuckin' hypocritical all this is. I mean, seriously, Stark. This is me you're talking to. Remember how we met? Remember how you said I could come to you no matter what? Why didn't _you_ come to _me_? Of all the people in the world you know I would have understood."

He opened his mouth to refute but then it was as if a bolt of lightning shot through his brain. Tony looked at her. Really looked. She was furious, no question about it, but underneath the anger was clearly a deep concern and hurt that he hadn't spoken up, that he'd chosen to drink away the pain instead of talking to her. _She would've understood_, he realized. _The nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks… how many times had _she_ called _me_ in the middle of the night? That's quite a twisted bond we have_, he mused. _I would give my fortune for it not to have happened to either of us._

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "You're right; I should've said something. What happened to you was… infinitely worse, and you manage to live with it without running out on your life or turning into a raging alcoholic."

"Do you know _why_ I didn't turn into a raging alcoholic?" she challenged. "Because of you! Because I talked to you! And do you really want to play this game again? What happened to me _wasn't_ worse. They had me for three days, not three months."

"They didn't shatter my arm or pull out my fingernails or, oh, yeah, rape me."

Carol's nostril's flared. The mixture of pain and fury on her face made him wish he hadn't gone that far, but Tony was determined to see this through. Just because she'd never used the actual word, didn't make it any less true. Carol was one of the strongest people he'd ever known. The fact that the memories were like expanding toxic fumes in a small container that had to be safely released every once in a while didn't make her any less of a warrior, any less of a survivor.

_And you hadn't let her have that_, a voice in his head reminded him. _You swore she could come to you anytime, but for three and a half years she's had to live with nothing but memories._

_It's true_, Tony thought grimly. _I let my own shit screw her over... again. I abandoned my sister._

Meanwhile, Carol had composed herself slightly, enough to push the anguish back down and give him a hard look.

"You're a civilian. I'm military." She reminded him. "We're trained for dealing with these..."

"You didn't just say that!" He cut her off. "Please show me the s.o.b.s that made you think this was in any way okay so I can personally cut off their balls."

"Tony..." she sighed, exasperated.

And there it was. Without even realizing it, he suddenly saw that he was doing exactly what Rhodey had so often accused him of if he didn't like what someone had to say: making the person he was talking to so angry that he or she completely lost track of the original point of the conversation. It wasn't fair. After all these years, Carol deserved better.

"Hey," he pushed himself up slightly. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't like this game either. Let's call it a draw. We're both severely fucked in the head. End of story."

"That's the point," Carol glared at him. "It's _not_ the end of the story. Not for you. You need to pull yourself together, Tony. And I know I'm only the – what? – third or fourth person to tell you this, but seriously..."

"I know."

"I'm not sure you do."

"I do know." He insisted and glanced around the hospital room. "I'm getting pretty tired of waking up in random places and being surprised that I'm awake at all. Let's talk about something else, okay? Tell me something good. Something about you."

He held out a hand to her in a sign of truce, and after a moment she reluctantly took it, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I got a new job," she said casually, as if they hadn't just reunited after three and a half years of her thinking he was dead.

Tony frowned. "But you love the Air Force. Did something happen?" _Something else..._

"No, and I still love it, but a girl needs a change every once in a while." Her fingers idly played with the edge of the sheets. "I'm the head of NASA security."

His frown deepened as he tried to process the information. But no matter which way he turned it over in his head, the idea just didn't add up.

"Bullshit." Tony declared, and she blinked.

"What do you mean 'bullshit'?" Carol looked perplexed.

"I mean 'bullshit'. You're you, and that's practically a desk job."

"Well, it's my job, so deal with it." She gave him the annoyed look a child might give a parent after being told that he disapproved of her choice of major. "Why would I lie to you, anyway?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Is that where you met the weird doctor you sent me? Is he really an alien?"

"Who? Don Blake?" She laughed. "No, that would be Dr. Lawson. He's the alien. Don's just... umm... special."

"Very." Tony agreed. "Did you know he talks to himself? He tries to hide it, but every once in a while I see him having, like, almost full blown arguments with himself."

"He's a good guy, Tony, and an even better doctor. I want you to listen to whatever he tells you to do. Got me?"

"Yes, Mom." He all but stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the annoyed look.

Tony couldn't help but smile. It was so very good to be talking to her again. If he wasn't sitting in a hospital bed after nearly killing himself and if this wasn't the first time he'd seen her in years, he might have sworn that they'd never parted. Carol always had been easy to talk to, even when their topics of conversation were far from it. Anyway, it felt like they'd exhausted the heavy things right off the bat.

"So." Tony smiled mischievously. "Now that you're no longer USAF, what's the story with you and..."

Carol was saved from him finishing the question by Pepper's return. The red head looked a little startled that someone other than herself or the doctor was in the room, but she quickly recognized the other woman and gave her a small, somewhat hesitant nod. The former airman acknowledged it, and Pepper retreated back behind the door to give them privacy. Carol turned her attention back to Tony.

"That's my cue to leave," she announced. "But I'll be back soon, I promise. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime, Stark. If you feel the need to try to kill yourself again, at least call me, and I'll save you the trouble of figuring out how."

"I love you, too, Carol." He smiled.

"I do love you." She insisted. "Jim and I both do. Even when we absolutely can't stand you or some of the idiotic things you do, we still love you."

She kissed his still-bearded cheek and left before Tony could say that maybe she shouldn't be so quick to speak for Rhodey.

* * *

Pepper knew she was unnecessarily nervous as she patiently waited outside Tony's hospital room for Captain Danvers to finish her visit. It was ridiculous to be nervous considering she'd personally told Rhodey and survived the lieutenant colonel's wrath. She understood that both were Tony's family in all but official documents. He'd said as much before, but it was still different. Pepper had known Rhodey for a few weeks on a daily basis and knew what to expect. She'd only met the captain once, and a woman's reaction was always harder to predict.

Carol emerged only a short time later, quietly closing the door behind her. Pepper straightened and met her unreadable blue gaze. Then unexpectedly, the other woman pulled her into a hug and when she finally released, her face was soft.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "For bringing him back to us."


	25. Part 25

_**Author's Note:**_ So I realize that you guys are probably wondering where Pepper's been. Feel like she's sort of fallen off to the background lately, huh? Don't worry. Pepper's key to the story and this withdrawal – pardon the bad pun – is intentional. She'll be front and center again before the story is over. Enjoy and please review!

* * *

"You're sulking." Carol accused from her position sitting cross-legged on the other bed.

Rhodey barely glanced up, his mind and hands busy setting up the necessary connections between the two databases that had just finished uploading to his laptop. He could practically feel the scripts of code scrolling across his eyes as well as the screen.

"I'm not."

"You are." She insisted. "You're pulling a Tony Stark, and I gotta tell you, I don't like it. Actually, I think I kind of hate it. One of him is enough."

This time he looked sharply up from the screen. He was tired in every way it was possible to be, and there was still a lot of work to do. How could he focus when all she did was nag him about topics he didn't want to talk about at all? Not for the first time, Rhodey thought twice about his insistence that she stay in his hotel room.

Out of security reasons, of course.

"And _I_ think I'm tired of hearing that name. Dead or alive, I'd like to go for ten minutes _not_ saying it. He thinks the universe revolves around him as it is."

The best way he could think to describe the look on Carol's face at that moment was enigmatic. A small, subtle tilt of the head, lips pressed tightly together, eyes just a bit squinted. Despite himself, Rhodey swallowed hard.

"Sorry." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I forgot men's fragile egos bruise easily when women talk to them about other men. Even when one of them is practically family, and the other keeps reminding me that he's my _former_ commanding officer."

Okay, he felt like an ass.

Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose, pressed the run button, and closed the laptop.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just… tired. I don't know how to balance out him and this." He waved a hand at the computer. "This is going to blow up, Carol. We don't have to wait for the results of this comparison to know that, and when it does… I don't even want to begin to think how I'm going to explain it to the military. And there's S.I. and Stane and Tony…"

Everything was running together in his head, so much so that he barely noticed her get up and make her way to his bed. She crouch behind him, reaching out to wrap her arms around his shoulders so that her front pressed against his back. Rhodey found it wonderfully distracting. Carol rested her chin on his shoulder.

"It's going to work out." She whispered. "We're going to put together the evidence, arrest Stane and everyone else involved just in time for Tony to take the reins again. It'll be good. A fresh start."

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and reached out to clasp her hands. "When did you become such an optimist?"

"Survival trait." Carol replied a bit wryly. "Besides, one of my brothers just came back from the dead. I'd say I'm entitled to a little optimism."

"Yeah." His larger hand absently rubbed hers.

And because the universe apparently hated them both, the computer pinged, announcing the end of the program run.

The phone rang a split second later.

* * *

Tony was bored.

That was never a good thing, especially when he was stuck in a small hospital room with nothing but his own thoughts to occupy his time. Pepper and Carol spent as much time as possible with him, but it was late Sunday evening now. The storm had finally let up, which meant Pepper had to be at the Tower the next morning, and Carol said something about needing to work with Rhodey for a while.

So he was left alone to listen to the dripping IV and other sounds of the city from outside. Dr. Blake came to check on him one last time before disappearing to wherever he slept. The doctor smiled and went through all the usual checks and notes.

"Any better today?" he asked.

"A little." Tony shrugged. "The girls came by so there was some distractions. And my head isn't pounding quite as hard, so that's good, I guess."

"Very good," Blake agreed. "With any luck, I think we can get you out of here by Thursday."

Tony made a face. "That's a whole week!"

"I think you grossly underestimate the amount of damage you did to your body." Blake frowned. "I can't make you stay, of course, but I _can_ – and will – get a hold of Captain Danvers. She told me to call if you complained."

"Ridiculous. I'm not five." But he knew he was dangerously close to whining. Tony straightened a little, changing the subject. "Speaking of which, what's your story, anyway, Doc?"

"Story?" He shrugged. "No story. I'm from New York originally. Wanted some place quieter so I moved to Oklahoma a few years ago. I'm not really sure what you'd like to know."

_Everything._ "Well," Tony leaned back against the pillows. "For starters, I have one really very important question."

"Oh?" The blond man raised a brown.

"Are you even out of med school yet. I mean, no offense, but seriously; what are you, like, twenty-five?"

"I'm... older than I look." The doctor laughed. "And yes, I'm fully licensed. I'd be happy to show you my credentials, if you like."

"Nah, it's fine." Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Carol trusts you, so that's good enough for me. This isn't even withdrawal talking, Doc. Just boredom."

Blake nodded sympathetically, then looked around the room and slowly made his way to the visitor's chair, sinking down with a slight wince that he tried to hide. Tony frowned a little.

"Is it the leg?"

"It's nothing serious." The other man assured him, but he could still see the tension on his face. "I've been on it a little too long. It's been a busy day here. They asked me to step into the O.R. twice. I'm just a visiting physician, but... well, things happen, and an extra pair of hands was needed."

_And you're the kind of guy who would spend hours on your feet in the O.R. even when you have trouble walking down the hall to get to the bathroom_, Tony thought.

"Is there anything you can do about it?" he asked aloud instead, nodding at the man's lame leg and walking stick that rested beside the chair.

"Birth defect." Blake shook his head. "Believe me, I would have figured out something by now, if I could. It's not _that_ bad. I even managed to hike a few trails in Norway on it."

"Really?" Tony was impressed.

"Yeah. I was there on vacation right after I finished medical school." The doctor recalled. "Just wanted to get away for a while, spend a little quite time by myself, before the life of a full time doctor really took over."

"How was it?" Some of his business trips might have taken him to Scandinavia, but Tony honestly couldn't remember. He had a hard time remembering anything but the inside of boardrooms that all blurred together.

"Amazing," Blake smiled. "Life changing."

"Huh. Well, soon as I get out of here, I'll be sure to call my travel agent... Doc?"

But the other man didn't look like he was listening anymore. He was looking out the small window of the hospital room door and into the hallway. From his vantage point on the bed, Tony couldn't see anything, but the deep frown on the doctor's face was a clear indication that something was wrong. The blond man pushed himself up to his feet and picked up his cane.

"Stay here," he said seriously.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know yet. Stay here."

The second the door shut behind him, Tony pushed back the covers and holding on to drip, rolled it along with him as he peered through the window on the door. For a long moment he couldn't see anything, but suddenly there was shouting, and he saw the doctor go flying through the corridor past his room.

"Blake!"

He practically tore the IV needle out of his arm and raced into the hallway. The other man was on the ground, grimacing in pain and reaching for his walking stick that lay only a foot away. Tony had no idea how it got there, and before he could run to retrieve it for him, a solid kick to his chest knocked the wind out of him and send him sprawling to the floor as well. It took him a minute to regain some minimal orientation and look up at their assailants.

There were men in dressed in black, Tony saw, their faces covered in masks. At least five, but there could have been more for all he knew. His attention was more focused on the gun pointed at him and the boot that pushed him back down whenever he tried to rise.

"Don't move, Stark." The gruff voice advised.

"Wouldn't dream of it." From the corner of his vision, he saw the two more men aim their weapons at Blake, who persistently kept reaching for his cane.

_They're going to kill him_, Tony realized in horror. _They're going to kill him just because he's helping me._

Without thinking he pushed his body forward, somehow managing to kick at the attacker and knock him off balance. The two near Blake looked up momentarily when their companion fell, and it gave the doctor the window to finally reach his objective. His hand closed around the cane just as the butt of a gun struck Tony's temple. Blake struggled to his feet as the others approached.

"Sorry." The younger man's face was full of determination. "I didn't want to have to do this."

The last thing Tony saw before he blacked out was the wood strike the ground.

The last thing he heard was a rumble of thunder.


	26. Part 26

_**Author's Note: **_I have no excuses, except to say that my life has been completely chaotic and swamped over the past year and my brain just hasn't been able to maintain writing a long on-going series. I can't promise regular updates, but I'll update when I can at least. *bows* Btws, I watched _Thor_ and loved it, but obviously this doesn't mesh well with what I've written so this fic just became a little more AU from the movie verse ^^;; I consider it the smaller of my offenses against your guys *digest rotten fruit*

* * *

Tony was pretty sure he hadn't consumed anything toxic, alcohol or otherwise. Still his head pounded as if a hammer had connected with it. There was a hammer involved, he recalled dimly, but couldn't remember much past it. All he knew now was that he was back in the hospital room – he could tell by the smells – and there were at least two people talking in hushed tones somewhere in the corner.

He lay very still, briefly wondering if it was the attackers, but the voices became distinct a moment later. Carol was talking to the doctor, he realized and chanced opening his eyes enough to see their faces. Blake looked concerned as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. Carol was frowning.

"Shit." She bit her thumbnail. "Big shit. I didn't expect it to leek so soon. Do you have any idea how it happened?"

Blake shook his head. "I don't know. But this is a public place, and beard or no... his face is pretty recognizable. Any of the staff or even other patience could have realized who he is. I'm sorry, Captain."

"No, don't apologize." Carol waved her hand. "He'd probably be dead if… _you_ hadn't stepped in. How are you?"

"A little bruised but no worse for wear." The doctor shrugged.

'_No worse for wear'?_ Tony thought. _How the hell does he take on at least five armed men and still say that? Especially with that leg…_

"How much do you think anyone saw?" Carol asked nodding at him.

Blake chuckled. "If they managed to make anything out, no one will believe them. Even if a few do, it's just going to be another urban legend. I think it amuses him."

"I'm so happy." But she sounded far from it and rubbed her temple.

Carol seemed like she wanted to say a lot more but was interrupted when the door opened. Tony quickly shut his eyes again, counting two pairs of footsteps – one light, one heavier – and guessed it was Pepper and Rhodey. He could hear Pepper coming to stand at the left side of his bed, while Rhodey, after a pause, moved to the corner where Carol and Blake stood. He chose that as the moment to make his wakefulness known.

"Someone answer that phone," he croaked.

There was motion around him and within a moment he felt a cup touch his lips. Finally opening his eyes, Tony was quite surprised to see that it was Rhodey, not Pepper, who was holding out the cool water. The other man's gaze was impassive, but he didn't look away and waited patiently for Tony to take two swallows before setting the cup on the small stand next to his hospital bed.

"How do you feel?" It was Carol who spoke.

"Like someone's been pounding on my skull," Tony admitted turning half-accusing eyes on the doctor. Blake was the picture of innocence.

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought. We should check for a concussion."

"Aha, and is your explanation for those people who tried to kill me equally convenient?"

He saw Carol and Rhodey exchange a look at this, but neither were seamed too eager to speak up. This annoyed him. Of the four people standing in the hospital room, the only one whose innocence he could buy was Pepper. She looked just as confused as he felt, with the added layer of concern written all over her face.

"You two know something." He snapped, giving his friends an accusing look. "And I can't even begin to sort out what your story is, Doc. So someone tell me what's going!"

Carol bit her lip and stepped forward. "I didn't want to worry you. Jim and I didn't want to worry you..."

"Unless it's about someone in this room, I really don't give a rat's ass."

"It's about your company," Rhodey spoke directly to him for the first time.

He had his undivided attention, not because Tony had any particular emotion left for Stark Industries but because it was his best friend – did he really deserve to still call the man that? - and he was speaking to him. The anger would come later, Tony knew and almost welcomed it. He didn't deserve anything less, but for now it was good to be talking at all.

"We should talk in private," the other man continued, looking somewhat apologetically at Blake and Pepper, and Tony instantly felt a sense of anxiety set in again. If whatever it was was serious enough to ask the civilians to leave...

"You really want to do this now?" Carol interrupted. She was clearly concerned despite the fact that she was one of the last people Tony expected to walk on eggshell's around him.

"Yes," Rhodey said. "Now that we have confirmation, he should know."

"Then they stay," the blond-haired woman declared with finality. "Don has clearance, and Pepper did more than her fair share for Tony. I want them both here."

Military protocol might have demanded that he argue, but Rhodey didn't look like he was about to cross her. Pepper, who'd remained by his bedside the whole time, gave his hand a small comforting squeeze. Rhodey bit his lip and began.

"After you... disappeared, Stane took complete control of the company." Tony said nothing. Obediah had been running the company mostly solo since his return from Afghanistan anyway. He did note Rhodey's use of the man's last name though. "At first everyone thought it was only temporary, until you returned. After a while though... it just became the norm. He made all the arrangements with the military, kept the right pressures on the R&D departments and so on. There wasn't anything terribly cutting edge coming out..."

"I told Rhodes I refused to use anything they built after you," Carol put in, and Tony gave her a small smile.

"...but the company was doing well," Rhodey continued. "Then, a few months ago, Stane called me into his office and showed me the plans for the armor. He claimed that it was something new that the R&D department came up with, but I didn't buy it."

"You saw..." Tony swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry again. "...pieces of it when you rescued me."

"Exactly. I didn't believe it was a coincidence he came up with almost the same design on his own. Especially since he kept asking me for suggestions for improvements and such. Like he had parts of the puzzle but not the whole thing."

"He shouldn't have had any of it." Tony's brow creased. "I didn't tell him anything about the suit. He saw the arc reactor in my chest, but that's all."

"I know." His friend agreed. "That's the... ah.. hard part. I was suspicious. Enough to start going through every document that had anything to do with you since right before you were taken in Afghanistan. That's when I called Carol."

"Because the head of N.A.S.A. Security has access to things an Airforce Lieutenant Colonel and liaison to Stark Industries doesn't," Tony said sarcastically. That earned him a smack on the shoulder and glare from his adopted sister.

"Don't be an ass," the woman warned. "Jim and I have been playing detective on your behalf, and there was a lot of garbage to sort through."

"So what'd you find?"

"That Stane got those designs from you," Rhodey replied courtly.

"Bull shit!"

"I didn't say you gave them to him." His friend took a deep breath, as if he was about to rip of a band-aid and thought it was better to just get it over with. "He got them from the Ten Rings... the ones you left behind when you escaped. Because he was working with them for years, possibly even before your capture."

The silence in the room was deafening. Carol and Rhodey looked sympathetic and determined. Blake was grim but surprisingly not as uncomfortable as one might have expected someone in his position as an outsider to be in. Pepper was squeezing his hand and he squeezed hers back in reflex, not quite knowing which of them needed more comfort. Theoretically it should have been him, but she'd been through so much for him. He was touched that she worried but also conflicted; Tony didn't want her to suffer any pain because of him.

"You think Obediah knows." He deduced finally. "That he sent those people to kill me."

He was a little surprised how little emotion there was in his voice about the matter. The revelation that the man who'd been practically a second father to him had most likely been plotting behind his back for years should have been crippling, but all he felt was numbness. It would probably hit him later, and then there had better be a bottle of something...

_Oh, right..._

"It gets worse," Rhodey said slowly. "We have evidence that he's also been selling to them for a while now. Several of the derbies from weapons tests that have been discovered in the area where you were captured match items that Stark Industries invoiced to... places that don't exist."

Tony didn't want to ask just how long it had been going on because he had a strong suspicion it was far longer than just before his capture. The fact that his company – the company his father built from the ground up – was involved with selling weapons to people who would use them to hurt soldiers like Carol and Rhodey was far more painful than the personal betrayal.

He must have been silent for too long, because Blake cleared his throat. "You need to rest," he told Tony very seriously. "I know this is all very jarring so I'll give you a very mild sedative..."

"No." His voice was firm. "No more drugs." As much as he wanted to slip into oblivion, Tony forced himself to pay attention, to concentrate. "I gotta think. What..."

_What do I do now? How do I... how do we come back from this?_

Pepper must have seen his distress. Hell, everyone probably did, but it was she who spoke. "Do you want us to give you a few minutes?" she asked gently.

He didn't really want to be alone with his thoughts, but at least it meant a small reprieve from everyone looking at him, waiting expectantly for a solution. Tony nodded, and one by one they all filed out. Rhodey was the last at the door, but he stopped, and for a moment it felt like they were both holding their breaths. Then his friend – the braver of the two, as far as Tony was concerned – finally spoke.

"I'm really mad at you."

"I know."

"I mean, I'm _really_ mad at you. Do you have the _slightest_ clue what your three and a half year-long stretch of your self-pity has been like for Carol and me, never mind S.I. and its thousands of employees?"

Tony bit his tongue from saying something stupid along the lines of "At least you didn't spend a few New York winters on the streets." That had been entirely his choice, as he'd come to recognize. Not because he had any real control over his alcoholism, but because he chose not to ask for help when it might have made a significant difference. The question was obviously not rhetorical, and Tony figured he owed him to at least attempt to answer.

"I've never been one to apologize for anything," he said slowly and seeing the scowl form on Rhodey's face quickly moved on. "But I'm going to keep saying 'I'm sorry' however long it takes for you guys to believe me, okay? I _am_ sorry, Rhodey. There's nothing else I can say, but I really, truly am sorry for... everything."

His friend gave him a silent intense look before sighing. "Carol forgives you, you know. Hell, she forgave you before she even saw you. Soon as I told her you were alive..."

Tony snorted. "Could've fooled me, the way she let me have it."

"Good. You deserve it."

"I know. How's she been? Really?"

"Shitty," Rhodey replied flatly. "Sometimes I think she's an inch away from getting just as friendly with the bottle as a certain someone else."

Tony winced. "Don't let her. I know she's prone to self-destructive behavior," _even if I can't tell you why_, "and I know it sounds incredibly hypocritical, but don't let her. Don't let her become... me."

"Right. Aren't you going to ask why I haven't started drinking yet? Between the pair of you, _I'm_ surprised I haven't tried anything stronger."

"Nah," Tony waved his hand dismissively. "You're too straight-laced for that."

Rhodey gave an exasperated sigh. "And to think I wanted you back."

"I thought we were having a moment!"

"We were. You ruined it."

And that did it. The men burst out laughing, with Rhodey shaking his head. The release of tension did wonders for the atmosphere in the room, but after a few minutes, both sobered. Tony gave his friend a quiet intense look.

"I'm going to need your help on this one, Rhodey."

His friend nodded sagely. "All you ever had to do was ask."


End file.
